“I like cars with big butts’ she said.
“The ones with soft interiors and big joysticks
That you hold while racing down at 70 mph
Down straight highways swerving through bylanes
And bursting into breeze and wide open spaces! ”
Spent. The exhausts thunder. Throttles down and grazing
Hear the sound of engines purring?
“I like the old Mustangs” she said
“They growl back at you throttle deep,
Crunching up the pussycats
Mewing on the slow lane”
“I like tequila that’s naughty
No aftertaste, a coupla shots
A hot bonnet to warm you back
And a piston that does a six stroke
As we race to a finish on the salt lakes”
“ Don’t you like Mercedes? ” I softly queried
“ Nah” she replied curtly.
“ But it starts with an M too? ”
“Oh yeah, its got no twang in it though! ”
I surrendered to the sound of giggles.
We pulled up near a parking lot
And she slid into a vacant slot
Both butt and front touching.
Menagerie of cars parked perfectly.
I admired her driving skill.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Yeah, its about cars. Get your mind outta the gutter will ya?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Comments about this poem (GearShift by Marshall Gass )
- Simply Spoken Preparing, Heather Burns
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- Nigeria Arise and Save thyself, Henry Isiekwe
- Not a minute or a day too late or soon, Mark Heathcote
- Little makes a lot, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- In For A Penny, In For A Buck, Noah Body
- O Wow!, Robert Eckstein
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