LGBTQ+ Poem: MY HUSBAND READING CLASSIC CARS, by Kenneth Pobo

At the kitchen table he drinks coffee,
eats three Biscottis, a 1954 red convertible
driving off the page and out
of our house. I’m spacey

and ask if we can drive to Neptune.
It’s so bleak and refreshing. He says
he’s in the mood for the seashore.
I don’t like driving so we head
to the Delaware shore, stopping first
at a Dairy Queen for large dipped cones.
We kiss after eating them,

getting our beards sticky. Our white beards—
the years speed faster than
this dream car. We watch paragliders
hover over waves. Then back
to our kitchen, our cat, the magazine
still open, the next trip
a page away.

Author: poetryfest

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