Kansas Whisky Cola

Somewhere south of somewhere
just north of somewhere else
old two-lane blacktop
far from stealth,
Two-seat British sportscar
once was racing green
she and I are drinking
cola and Jim Beam

From aluminum cans
straight out of Kentucky
Kansas afternoon
both feeling lucky,
Sun on our shoulders
dust between our toes
I watch as she slowly
takes off her clothes,

Now, I’ve seen her naked body
countless times before
sunlight and shadow
always ready for more,
She poses like a model
with a look of defiance
what’s going on here
isn’t rocket science,

Just a mix of biology
and serendipity
she walks a dozen yards
turns around and looks at me,
Last drop of whisky cola
throws the can on the ground
if you want me, you can have me
says to me without a sound,

So that is what we do there
under the Kansas sun
both still standing naked
when we are done,
Walk back to the vehicle
pick up the empty cans
a farmer drives by
she waves with both hands,