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Sidecars

Sidecars are for bitches
               (or is it the other way around?)

                                                  Slung-on side-saddle, ride the double-yellow

                                         Centerline, danger-line

Low-down zoom around town      Up alleys and

                                        Down, whipping through street

Signs and lights, every last one

Red.

           Wet warm wind in hair

Always long, always      black as an oil slick.

Shining teeth, lips.

My girl has warm beige lips.
No glittering ruby. No sidecars.
A practical sedan, used, decent mileage,
Reliable in every weather.
It will accommodate a car seat, someday
Soon.

I rev, readied     Still
She beats me
Off the line without lifting a finger.
I can hear her laugh and fade
Even with the windows up.

Posted 12/30/11
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