always a stick shift
black leather seats
black like
the stockings
the boots
the man
always September
midnight, full moon
ass on the slide
driver’s side
no panties
no problem
before she left
she swore I’d always
been a switch hitter
what now? he asked
(as he) snapped the
handcuffs
on my wrists
put the car in park
it was as far away
from Daddy
as I could
get.
Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets 
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