Apis and Phaethon were jawing when Apis says, “Man,

your dad ain’t who you say he is–

you ain’t all that and a bag of chips,

and if you is, why don’t you take his ride for a spin?”

Phaethon said, “Fine” and hit off on the track

to reach the hilltop holding his old man’s manse.

Son found sire there flat-backed in a nap,

Phaethon poked him once, twice, thrice in the cheek

before an eye popped open to look the boy square–

“Who’re you prodding me while I get my beauty sleep?”

The boy said, “Phaethon and I think I’m your son.”

The man looked harder and said, “Oh yeah, I knew your mom.”

Phaethon said, “I need to prove it to a jerk called Apis.”

His dad said, “Whatever you want, just name it.”

“A quick go in your car will get the job done.”

“Just try not to have too much fun!”

Phaethon took the keys and cracked the cab,

lit the ignition and broke to a sprint,

he peeled out of the garage and down the road,

past Apis and all the rest.

It was a fury too big for him under the hood,

he mustered all the strength that he could,

but that wheel turned and shook him loose

and sent him into fiery calamity, dead among the refuse.