She's Mine! Poem by Ross Lakes

She’s mine!
And with the simple twist of a simple, metal tab
She flies!
And even the flight of jets is not the same.
No craft that catches wind knows how she feels.
For planes are lofty things
Which float so very high above
That the world, though grandly scenic, cannot be truly touched.

Ah, but to move along the contour of the belly of the earth,
To feel the billows of the tossing, satin road.
To scrape the corners of the woods
And watch the deer
And watch them run:
The difference is like the difference between a
Dagger and a gun.

She’s resting now in my garage.
Her sleek, inviting curves are sex itself
From teeth to tail.
Her feline flanks seem ever-waiting, ever-flexed,
Ever-ready to make the pounce,
To heed my whim, my need, my call!
She waits for me.
And without my special touch, she will not move.
Will not yield her special love without my special
Tongue-in-groove.

And Olympus never dreamed, could never dream
Of such a wealth of grace, of such a perfect form and face.
Nor great Alexander ever felt such pride of power,
Such manly, mobile pulchritude as do little I,
Because she’s mine!