Spread out naked on the hood of a Cadillac under a full moon in Amador

He comes to get me

in a rented '59 Cadillac convertible

He knows the tailfins turn me on

He glides the giant car

onto the highway and out of town

in the slipstream of August heat

I can tell by his smile

he's eyeing that big tuck-n-roll back seat

He assess my bare shoulders

and peal-away sundress

and knows his chances are excellent

 

summer twilight road

snakes up through gold-yellow hills

and dusty emerald groves

radiates the heat it's been cooking since June

Molten asphalt turns to hard-packed dirt

and the Cadillac slithers like a python

around curves it wasn't built to take

Twisted oaks and cottonwoods wave

as we glide by

abuzz with expectation

of champagne picnic

joint-smoking skinny-dipping

and tongue-twisting poetry 

in the naked night

                                           

Full moon rises above the rippling heat

cooled by the river on our skins

more green smoke passes between our lips

lingers between our champagne-flavored tongues

body heat overpowers the river cool

and my toes are pointed at the stars

He licks the moonlight from my flesh

until I'm dizzy

and the metal hood grinds

under our bouncing weight

 

the giant car glides homeward

in the pinkening dawn

Fresh dew hangs

for the heatbugs to drink

Languid and saturated, I loll in the front seat

ready for a shower and a real bed

and for more of the man at the wheel,

who can park his rented Caddy

in my garage

anytime.

 

 

copyright Kimberly White  2003

published in Tule Review

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