Jon Wesick

   

Another Love Poem
(That Didn’t Work)

Come, Love
be the antacid
that soothes my burning heart
and lie with me
on pumpkin spice
strewn over my truck-bed liner.

Your feet are dainty
as hybrid subcompacts.
Each leg, slender as a 3.5-inch
nitrous-ready driveshaft
with chromoly yoke
and solid-body u-joints.
Your navel, a glazed donut.
Your breasts, round and firm
as the tennis balls
my Labrador never tires of chasing.

Your neck, graceful
as a Swedish floor lamp.
Your gaze, hypnotic
as the smartphone ap
that summons our rideshare
to paradise.

I want to drink sweet Moscato
from your cochineal lips
then sober myself
in the dark-roast Americano
of your hair.

My passion is a 2.9% APR
credit card, its chip and PIN
unlocking the bounty
of your desire

 

Jon Wesick is a regional editor of the San Diego Poetry Annual. He’s published hundreds of poems and stories in journals such as the Atlanta Review, Berkeley Fiction Review, Metal Scratches, Misfit Magazine, Pearl, Slipstream, Space and Time, Tales of the Talisman, and Zahir. Jon is the author of the poetry collection Words of Power, Dances of Freedom as well as several novels and most recently the short-story collection The Alchemist’s Grandson Changes His Name. http://jonwesick.com