TO BE COMPLETELY HONEST

By by David Axelrod

“Don’t bet on this sport,” says Dale, Jr.,

who ought to know. “It’s a lottery.
You just can’t predict who’ll win.”
They’ve regulated so much about
the cars that they all look alike.
No wonder every bumper and grill
are a match — with templates enforced
to within 1/8th of an inch. The air
restrictor plates, carburetor settings,
the tires, suspension, not to mention
weight and fuel. All that’s left
to chance is who’s going to crash
out in the Big One. It’s hard to hear
a driver say, for all his pluck, the sport
comes down to just dumb luck.
For all the talent and showy colors,
for all the pairing up for the dance,
you could be clever as a fox and
still lose. But hey, that’s what we
love about America — just about
anyone has a chance.

(For more poetry by David Axelrod’s “The Speedway” go to www. totalrecallpress.com or www.amazon.com.)