Mercedes Poem by gershon hepner

“Please God, buy me a Mercedes! ”
That’s the prayer that’s often heard
from penurious, lovely ladies,
and it’s surely not absurd.
Why should lovely ladies ride
in a car called an Accord
when it seems more fun inside
Benzes I cannot afford?

My girl drives a green Toyota,
though I think she’d rather be
in my sleek burgundian motor,
either sitting next to me,
or alone, while in her dreams,
bubbles bursting like champagne,
there’s a beamish boy she beams
in the sapphire diamond lane.

There’s no need for Lamborghini
for my lady, or Ferraris,
all she wants is Seamus Heaney,
for her motorword safaris,
and this loverboy, her text,
reading lovers’ maps to guide her,
highly powered, highly sexed,
in my Honda right beside her.

2/28/04