Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Cash for Clunkers

artwork: ralph murre


Cash for Clunkers
by Richard Swanson

He’s never quite caught her right in the act,
             her eyes in a furtive head to toe scan
             but sometimes he questions if in fact
             his wife has an agenda, a plan.

             With his age and mileage, the wages of sin
             in his going-to-hell suspension,
             does she see him as a relic trade-in,
             eco salvage in a crushed compression?

             Is he onto clandestine musings,
             her needing something sans dings and dents?
             These imperfections aren’t of my choosing,
             a voice in his head pleads in defense.

             She pats his butt, him toiling at the kitchen sink.
             Can you see me as vintage classic, Hon’? he thinks.


             ~ previously published in Not Quite Eden (Fireweed Press)