He drives naked
in his dirty Dodge Ram Dass
Tarzan boy with his lioness cub
wild shades of pink sliding down
through a sky of brilliant lapis -
(her fingers curled between his legs)
favouring the naturalness of her beauty
so unlike the neon bodies of silicon philosophy
cocooned in a safe unthinking world
Try the radio again -
nothing but the same 15 songs
played over and over
from one radio station to another
from one suburb to another...
nothing but static and evangelicals -
UFO sightings, a prophet proselytizing
Haitian ball players who practice voodoo
Impatient to get there -
to that slice of the timeless, limitless city
a place that he knows is his -
scrub pine half dead
gasping, reaching up through wasteland
has become his talisman, his totem -
he sends a glance to heaven,
before kissing her slick fingers
hand slap to the windshield -
pushing the needle
as the faraway stars rotate, oblivious
Brimming an overpass,
dead black lakes brooding on either side -
(she likes the wet sound of the tires
as they transfer from asphalt to concrete
and back to asphalt again)
headlights carve a tunnel of radiance
stark lights, like giant creature orbs
bounce off superstructures -
the wheel rattles and shakes in his hands
Jade-gold street dust rises
from backseat communion
settling over everything -
an idea grows without realisation
adding its naked glow to what is already seen
drawn
into the middle of sentences
wanting to keep going, phrase for phrase
grinding out the sinuosities of syntax
unfolding like skin and limbs –
caught up in the throbbing heat of language
a seduction to which, bone on bone
they succumb, feeling the words swell
and take shape in their throats
with a sudden release of orgasmic rapture
the sweetness of freedom
tasted on one-another's tongue...
City Limits
©crisstiena
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Your second line was just too cute, too prosaic and too profound for mere words, Sweetie. 
The rest of it...Sighhh. Stellar, as always. Best of luck in the contest, my Friend. 
I like to write this kind of poetry myself 
