Reefs

In panged heart I knew the time had come
to scuttle my old rusty four wheel, compact dingy,
find a mighty luxury vessel
for sailing proud upon the asphalt sea.

Paddling my leather swim fins
over to the used car sales parking reef,
treading the current of opportunities,
and find that special coral motorized beauty.

Then he came in my direction,
such a grinning vision of pure confidence,
reeking of Scope and Brute aftershave,
I knew his predator leisure suit stance,
circling me in ravenous eyeing lusts,
smelling blood of profit
nearly drooling as he exposed
his set of mouth ivories
speaking their viper promises.

When I asked about warranty life preserver
and the proof his teeth marks
weren't on the contract,
all his comrades descended upon me,
clearly prepared for a feast.

Each one ravishing my flesh of questions,
jaws of assurances consuming my will.
Pulling into their office for the kill,
my wallet's blood spilled on that paper.

Driving away in tugboat they said
was sailboat,
another survivor of their pitch's shark attack
with 60 month payment plan as bite wounds.