Love Poem: She Loves Nascar

She Loves Nascar

SHE LOVES NASCAR 
           

She loves NASCAR. 
I prefer Gaugin or Renoir 
but she loves NASCAR.

It's a southern fascination 
as Dixie as Faulkner 
or 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, 
with 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 pitstop. 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 heart racing .

Yes, oh yes I love Nascar.