Poetry Maybe. #6

black wool coat and a motorcycle in

the rearview mirror

he kneels on the side of the road.

calling whoever will answer

The thought enters

we could provide some help or comic relief

but our actions are stalled

he doesn’t need help

from us

does he?

our options are to show concern

or drive off to be anonymous in the holiday traffic

the scene is fragrant with musk and diesel

we give him a smile that lasts too long

and then we pose together like in a magazine

like it’s kismet and all meant to be eternally

who can have criticism for shallow romance?

surrounded with chemistry and hearts on our notebook

Me and Motorcycle Guy 4ever

(bedroom scene inserted here)

sticky flowers and heart-shaped hot tub

Horns from the traffic behind us establishes that we

require a reduction of trashy romance novels

daydreaming can be dangerous

while driving

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