Another one from the archives…
We turn and glide slowly to the entrance of the dark, wet tunnel.
The sharks await us —
oily, black, glinting eyes like sharks —
primeval brains of devious skill.
They glance at us momentarily, pupil to waxed pupil and
thus I feel they smell my sex through the smudged Plexiglas of
my mothers old Subaru.
They plunge their dirty towels deep into the buckets of sudsing water
and with impish grins cackle to one another
in strange tongues.
This sound is muted by the sealed windows of the car,
we can make out is the gross movements of their mouths
churning and turning white at the sides.
I am thankful that my ripe, fourteen year-old
tee-shirt and shorts-clad body is safely
seat-belted inside the iron frame of the car.
I am watching a movie,
the actors staring at me with those glossed eyes as they rub hard the doors and windows of the car.
I feel as if they are exploiting me,
I feel the swollen wheels bounce in protest of their heavy-handed deeds.
After a few long minutes they are done with their job
And we continue down into the dark tunnel that is life,
taking a last look back in disgust to the ones who debase us again,
Categories: Original Poetry