The Girl in the Bug Eyed Sprite





Dan Crummett
187th Assault Helicopter Company

The malts were extra thick that night,

The air was sweet and warm,

The western sky’s blue-white flash

Bore news of a thunderstorm

The curb-hops sailed between the cars

With malts and fries and Cokes

While a cast of studly teenage males

Discussed their cars and smoked.


In the parking place, out by the street

Sat a Chevrolet Bel-Air

A bronze two-door with tuck and roll

And flames put on with care

Beneath the hood, below the quad

The small-block Chevy roared

To impress the girls and get the

goat of the next guy, in a Ford.

Now the Fairlane, too, would rumble loud

From its engine, slightly larger

With factory duals drowning out the whine

Of a Paxton supercharger.


None of us had seen this pair

before on summer nights,

But their haughty insults grew intense --

We knew there’d be a fight.

My root beer float was melting fast

So I chugged it with delight

And noticed sitting next to me,

a girl in a Bug Eyed Sprite.


Now I was in my father’s car,

a four-door white sedan,

An under-powered "practi-car"

The size of a moving van.

I longed to be driving a new Corvette

Or a Falcon Sprint with duals,

To get this girl’s attention

As I suavely played it cool.


But with the noise off to my left,

and the approaching thunderstorm

This aphrodyte in the Brit skateboard

Called for action – not my norm.

The pair of Fifty-Sevens,

Were backing out to race

When I finally bolted out, around

And met her face-to-face


Her beauty put old Fords to shame.

I stuttered as I asked her name

And felt a fool to invite her there

To go and watch the racing pair

Her saucer eyes were deep sea green

Her hair was Raven Black

She said "of course, and it’s Eileen,"

My trembling jaw went slack


Now all at once we’re in my car

With thoughts all run asunder

The racers left so long ago,

And now I hear it thunder.

I heard the Chevy jumped off the line

With front wheels off the ground

But within twelve lengths the Fairlane’s

Torque propelled it well around.

I must admit, we missed the race

But I’ll remember well that night

As lightning flashed and thunder rolled

With the girl in a Bug Eyed Sprite.

Copyright 1999-- Dan Crummett


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