Pike
// Danielle McMahon
You got your
Hatchback // Stickshift
// Bring it home for Christmas
Red is the color of the hatch-back
streaking Pike, when we go screaming,
shrugging the jersey barrier
My ears blush, brick-hot
Your ears blush, brick-hot
(It’s like that
when you kill the engine)
Stung by the slaking
of an oh-so-sweet innocence
A whiptail, strawberried, blonde
(& mine)
a shy white linen, habitually drawn to
in-cin-eration
(& cables of light
catch your waterless eye)
Your shoulders ripe as that
shrugged jersey, itself
unstitched, apple-green-bitten
(& there’s your face again
on the ridges
of my wandering eye)
Snaking the wild way, this tedious thing
My hackles peak for this
free-falling