They Call Me Corvette Granny
They call me Corvette Granny,
as I cruise around in my red Sting Ray,
vintage 1965 convertible and what a looker,
the rag top down with my hair flying in the wind,
totally not looking my age and undisciplined.
They call me Corvette Granny,
men want to race me on the streets,
they stare at my crimson beauty and wink,
flirting with a mighty engine that always wins,
knowing that they will eventually be kicked in the shins.
They call me Corvette Granny,
taking off at the light burning rubber,
people on the sidewalks stop and stare,
wondering who is that crazy old bat,
driving a sports car looking smug and fat,
until my husband the cop stops me for speeding.
April 3, 2018.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
