(idea) by Jurph Fri Jul 27 2001 at 18:15:26
Pick-up

Fragile fingers on the fender
of his truck, tracing smooth steel
as if you were bored with it
waiting for the masculinity to shoot out.

Trying, tensely, to look tender
hand on its hip, copping a feel
while your teeth held your lip
like a wrestler, squirming, in a pout.

~

Tell him how his truck looks feminine...
The corner panel curves just so-- look serious.
Of course he’s staring at your dress. It’s tight
with excitement: tonight he’ll be your driver.

Don’t you love that shade of fleshy crimson?
Ford stopped making paint that delirious
(maybe for a reason, you parasite—
Do you think you ever earned the word "lover"?).

--jurph

To stay true to this poem, I have to note that it was stored on my hard drive as a file named "A Treatise on Sussex County, DE". I still have no idea why.
I like it! 1 C!