She loves NASCAR.
I prefer Gaugin or Renoir
but she loves NASCAR
It's a southern fascination
as Dixie as Faulkner and Sweet Potato Pie
I love NASCAR,
She squeals like tires burning,
out of breath
The only thing that moves
like lightening
in the south
NASCAR.
Guys driving fast
making left hand turns.
I prefer the curves
in a Rodin,
the speed of a swallow’s flight.
She loves NASCAR.
Her eyes smoke
smiling like a checkered flag,
spark plug laughter.
When the twisted wrecks have been cleared.
the vroom of the engines still.
In bed,
In my arms
she idles.
Her hair smelling of excitement and exhaust.
I love NASCAR
Her engine revs
I whisper,
we have nothing in common.
Don't be silly
we both love NASCAR
She reaches for me
under the sheets.
GENTLEMEN START YOUR ENGINES!
She draws me inside,
A pit stop.
I'm her one man pit crew
We both love NASCAR
she sputters
Yes but,
not for the same reason
My key in her ignition
My pistons pounding.
My gears shifting
My engine racing .
Yes, yes, yes, now I love NASCAR.
©2009
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