Spider Man

He keeps his ego in the garage And pampers it with the utmost attention. Sometimes, on a lazy afternoon He wheels it onto the driveway to impress the chicks. They hop in, go for a ride and Get turned on by the magnitude of its power. The seductive smell of the leather interior Is so intoxicating They often consent to a little action in the back seat. It isn’t until he gets out and stands in the broad light of day That they realize what a jerk he is. But by then it’s too late. (Previously published in Sensitive Poetry, Nov.1999)