Auckland Poetry.com

Place your palm
on my uneasy pulse.
Tell me:
“pick up the pace –
pedal to the metal –
and locate fun’s
attraction!”
Ripping through the air
your finger’s tips run
the length of my thigh;
you tell me: how you
love my slow reproach! and
I’m Exhausted –
by you honking
My horn to pick up
Your mate – I barely stop –
Who dives into
the bucketed seat of my
motivation’s offense;
as you slap the width of my transmission
your mate tells me: how he
loves ignoring my assets! and
I’m Exhausted –
to find
your pride’s recoil
from my shrouded defence.
Tell me:
“fast pace it –
iron to the grind –
and track joy’s
tread marks!”
You laugh at my acceleration
which sends your empty head
“thunking” straight
into my headrest’s strength;
you tell him: how you
admire his behaviour’s ignorance! and
I’m Exhausted –
when you
extend me etiquette’s stare –
that maddened, definite glare –
and the itch, which it creates
as you stroke my ego’s suspension
and tell me: how I’m not
going home tonight! and
I’m Exhausted –
as you
fan my fuelling fire and
cast out your spare demon –
an imp of unwelcome meaning –
to candle my panel’s control…
Cut through my shadows!
Rue my fears!
Whisper your wonton affections
to my deafened soul! until
I’m Exhausted!