Picture me in a German sports car. I do,
Knowing that having such fantasies marks
Me as one more old man who's trying
To prove something, diminished virility?,
To himself, to others, perhaps, maybe
Maria, the goddess at work? Shifting
Those gears, wind in my hair, smiling,
Pushing open the door and cooing,
Come on, baby, let's go for a ride." But
Where would we go? What would we
Say to each other? Probably nothing,
As we couldn't hear. The ride would
End. Then she'd walk away to her much-
Younger husband, and I'd motor home
By myself, getting cold, thinking it would
Have made more sense to purchase
A Bentley instead.