Rick James
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I was in Madison and I thought of you. I found a jar of Carmex in my bag and I thought of you. I made mac’n’cheese and I thought of you. I saw a red convertible Mustang and I thought of you. I heard a commercial for 1-800-Kars-4-Kids and I thought of you. I ate half a batch
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She’s a Super Freak, Super Freak, she’s Super Freaky, Yow! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! The chorus to that booty shaking and inappropriate Rick James song comes on just as I slow to a stop at the red light. I am jamming—singing loud, bouncing in my seat, arms a’flailin’—and I look to the car next
MARY LAMPHERE AUTHOR 