Esme, You Are A Fast Woman Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I asked my father,
If I could borrow his car,
And I called you, to let you know
That we’re going out wherever
Your eyes direct my soul to;
But took you long to prepare,
You said over the phone,
“I am such a sluggish woman.”
And I sighed and chuckled for I love you, Esme
You and your staggering auburn shoes
And maroon pants,
Mauve contact lenses;
Now you are juxtaposed to the driver’s seat,
My hand firm on the wheel,
My other hand, loose inside your hand;
So you could ride in comfort
And jar your hand against the compartment,
You, the only dame
I allow inside my father’s vehicle
With your hair tousled against the windows,
Slide your porcelain across the
Black suede seat covers
As we speed past
The streetlamps,
Ugly billboards,
Deceitful adverts,
Randy people,
Time,
Love,
Wrinkles,
Sweat pooling from your seat
And as I sped,
And accelerated past the world
Of vertigo, of loss and discontent,
You were faster than my father’s mobile
Faster than time,
Than love,
Than wrinkles,
That the ruckus crowd,
And so you slipped away
Faster than light,
When you said,
“I’m such a sluggish woman.”