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Johnny Baranski, USA


just a skeleton of the old wooden bleachers remains. the control tower is gone as are the flag stand and pits. but where the blackberry bushes have yet to encroach I can still see the outline of the front straightaway and turns one and two. and if I listen real hard I can still hear the roar of those V-8 650 horse powered stock cars as their drivers wheel them around the half mile clay racing oval. it may be just my wild imagination but is that the faint odor of tire smoke and burning high octane fuel still hanging in the air? and the race fans? only their ghosts haunt the ruins in the fading twilight. once a farmer’s field these few acres are now prime real estate for new development. there are a few holdouts. there is a stable and some grazing land off in the distance.

an old nag
put out to pasture;
a rusting jalopy


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