At the British motor show
in London
I do not know what
caught my eye first
between the red sign
triangulating down stating:
“Join Vodafone today
for your chance
to win this Maserati Spyder
worth 74000 pounds sterling, ”
or the blonde girl dressed in red
in front of it
with a red Ferrari T-shirt
accentuating her breasts
and red plastic close fitting pants
stretching much too sensual at places
standing next to a blood red Ferrari
Grand Prix car with Bridgestone,
Shell, Vodafone and Olympus stickers
plastered all over it
with one hand on her hip
and the other down
at her side
and red polished nails gleaming
just as bright as her smile
and I would have seen her
by a mile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem