The World According To Ben Part 2 ..Our Poet De Superb Pontificates About A Chillingly Serene Black
(A Noir of sorts in Stanzas of Iambic Tetrameter)
Night car glides down a forest road Of fresh-laid asphalt smooth as glass Alone. It owns this black abode. No need to speed. No one to pass.
Night car’s four high beams rend the dark, Reflecting dire night beasties’ eyes. Sharp. Businesslike. This is no lark. They clear the pavement. No one dies.
Night car’s stereo plays night songs— The kind you never hear by day. That deep back seat. Yes, you belong. The tanned hides beckon. Come in. Play.
Night car is full of leather scent. The gauge glow glints in driver’s eyes. Hard to see in. That’s the intent. Do what you will. Nobody pries.
Night car is chillingly serene. Eight cylinders… but what’s the hurry? The ride’s the thing. Know what I mean? Relax and let the world go blurry.
Night car’s a drug. No way to kick. It just keeps rolling on and on. Is this the denouement you’d pick— To ooze into the never dawn?
Night car’s rectangular taillights Fade far away. Creatures unfreeze. They’ve seen some rather freaky sights, But this one brought them to their knees.
Night car is gone. Now only night Remains. The darkness swallows hard, And never will you see the sight Of who’s unscathed and who’s been scarred.
© Verse-Case Scenario, LLC 2015