Fast Lane Lover Poem by John W. McEwers

I got a hard-pumping
quick-thumping
heavy metal rock
in me.
There's no ventricles in my chest
just pistons and oil
and a love-injection manifold
that can push me zero
to head-over-heels
in five flat.

Five seconds is all it takes
for a quarter-mile
of good lovin'
to be right in the rear view
I mean, within five seconds of seeing you
I could know our first five years
oh, I'll tell you,
it's like clairvoyance
for the heart-swift
but to avoid annoyance
I'll just say
it all works out in the end.
you see, I'm not a hit-and-run
kind of guy,
when we, and we will, when we
crash
there'll be no wreckage,
just perfect parts scattered across our lives
smoking and hot
for reassembly
and when we reassemble
there'll be no instructions
no factory line
just smooth linens
and rough breathing
and two purring engines
until sputtering
to rest, intertwined.

I don't know a better way for my engine to die.

And if you give me this one try,
just one time
I got a full tank,
room for one more
and if you're not one for road trips
I could take you straight to the finish line