Wishes of a Sitting Stool

Within a sun kissed horizon He held a bold and prolific waist To feel her back arch above the dashboard. The dashboard, From his view, Was covered in a hazy substance But he figured he was dreaming. The dashboard was far too useful To be a figment of his dim imagination. He thought about his brother. What an absurd distraction on This occasion of Pulls and embraces With so many paces Of slowing then racing. His brother would be good at this. He was always an ace with women. He had gifts of grace and satisfaction With his knees in the sand. Now while facing a dashboard He loathed this car. He hated the cracked leather seats And squeaks of impressions. He even hated how the windows Fogged over from the younger ones Who breathed to fast. He gave, He stalled, He wished he sleep in.