she cleans her Ray Bans
with the laurel of her dress
in the passenger seat
of a Subaru Forester
as a sexy saxophone solos
on the song on the satellite radio.
I put my blinker on too early,
our exit isn't for another mile,
which makes us smile,
because the rhythmic click,
matches the next tune.
we are in the hood,
and two mockingbirds fight or fuck
on the hood of my lesbian car,
we laugh at this too,
because there is nothing else to do.
rock and roll
and go kart racing,
ignoring all the problems
we are facing.
a date doesn't have to be
romantic, it can just be
a silly escape
from the days that plague us,
can't it?
holding hands doesn't have
to hold the weight of hearts,
it just just be a gesture
instead of a symbol.
getting back off the freeway,
a brown woman sells flowers,
so I roll down my window,
hand her a twenty,
then hand the flowers to my friend,
who smells them once,
then turns and asks something
I appreciate so much.
"How long do I have to
hold onto these tonight?"
We can sell them at the next stoplight,
for all I care, and she dares me
to give them to woman we see
who needs them more than we do.