A Proposition (Racing) Poem by Megan Haskins

I looked for you up in the
stands the other day.
As the hot sun beat down upon the
nape of my neck I hoped to catch a glimpse of
you.
I didn't.

I was looking out for that bald
head, toothless grin, scarred arms,
broken nails.
You're not sexy to me, god no.
It's your personality that drives me towards you.

I think you feel the same
although we both know it can never
happen.
'Honey' you call me as you unzip
my jumper, put your hand on my waist
and make a sexual remark.

I don't care that you've got 20
years on me.
Or that you're ugly as sin.
I would.
You would.
Why don't we?