Hemi

      
in my innocent days I dreamed of you
hardliner, rough rider layed it out heavy
I was told not to breathe on the glass
my steam was leaving smudges
on the windows of your hemi
 
two bit masochistic groupie in lust over a man
who was real enough to be honest
I learned where the real fuckers burn
it's in the trenches
 
where men rise and are broken everyday
you manage to do it
and lord only knows how you do
I'm just glad the men who live off the land
have a man who understands their way of thinking
who takes no pleasure in the doing
 
just mans up and does it
I wonder if they can see it in the lines
furrowed in your brow
that it pains you to do whats right
even if you're damned for it
but I know better you don't let them see it
that you carry a piece of them in those furrowed brows
it didn't come from smiling
 
you give them dignity on the page
and I know you do in person
doesn't make things easier
 
I don't dream about you anymore
a woman like me has no place in your world
only as much as this poem will allow
because I have great respect for you