Life Loves Fast Food

Dairy Queen — Photo by Terrye Turpin

Drive-thru tacos taste like summer,

Like girls in halter tops and cut-off shorts,

And shirtless boys with swimming pool tans

Wearing their father’s cologne.


Cherry cola on crushed ice,

Cold and sweating in the waxed cup,

Flavored with music from an open car window,

Tastes like rock and roll.


Fast food French Fries taste like the fields

Where we lounged under moonlight,

Serenaded by Merle Haggard on scratchy tapes

In the open bed of a pickup truck.


Popcorn in cardboard cartons is seasoned

With the dark secret back row of the movie theater,

Where I missed the last scene of the film

Because your hand rested on my thigh.


Drive-thru tacos taste like summer,

Like far off music if you could remember the words,

Like the last kiss as he walked you to your door,

Like love before you worried about cholesterol.

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