In awe of your corporeal spaceI sit parked in your station wagonwith the faux-wood trim, reciting linesto your thrust, your roominess.I can’t bear to pull out, preferringyour sweet little tree in my lungs,intoning devotion to naugahyde,wishing after wishing you were here.It’s no secret I’m smitten.I could palm your dash all day,rub your fabric the wrong way justto feel the ridged pleasure of youin my hands, breathingyour reply, verse after salted verse.
For Kerry’s prompt to the Real Toads: POETIC VOICE
This is quite hilarious. IT really is well done. Much enjoyed every line. k.
ReplyDeletePerfect delivery!
ReplyDeleteOh, you nailed this!
ReplyDeleteThe "ridged pleasure", LOL.......I may never look at my car the same way again!
ReplyDeleteI love your love sonnet to an automobile - it is very witty as a parody and quite on point with the current obsession some people have with their cars. What I think most marvellous about your poem is the way the voice allows us some insight into the speaker's character. Of course, the saucy imagery adds a layer of humour and the whole was such fun to read.
ReplyDeleteWhat a ride. Teenagers fall in love with their first cars, and this keeps the spirit of that blooming intact. Sappho in this voice, flush with the ridged fricatives of Eros. Hymen and amen!
ReplyDeletewhy not
ReplyDeleteMust be one sexy car... Some really are - I've just never owned one.
ReplyDeleteBig space for a big love. Loved this ode to the room we allow ourselves to sit in.
ReplyDeleteThere has to be something of the car! It is not just to be driven but driven with care! Great lines Marian!
ReplyDeleteHank
In love.....we become starry eyed no matter what the source of love is!!
ReplyDeleteHa! Enjoyed revisiting this this morning--so cool. I can remember wagons like this--all kinds! k.
ReplyDelete