- Non-Erotic Poetry
- She's So Fast
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Souped up machine with lines so mean,
runs a race like nothing you've seen,
she fishtails when she shifts to third,
twin exhausts vying to be heard.
She red lines at one ninety five,
Supercharger in overdrive,
the squeal of tires, the gnash of gears,
she's outrun John E. Law for years.
She's so fast, she can't last,
they only built cars like her in the past.
She's such a hot rod stunt driver,
you can't catch her, can't outdrive her,
she runs like there's no tomorrow,
steals the love you thought you'd borrow.
Navigating the Autobahn,
nerves of steel, she exudes great calm,
she never looks back changing lanes,
fifty cars pile up in exchange.
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