Parked at the curb
Way after midnight,
What lurks inside you?
Is there fucking inside you?
Are there drugs inside you?
Is there unimaginable happiness?
You Limousine,
You have it all
And have seen so much:
Rich men who have it all,
Beautiful women who have it all,
Diamonds, tiaras, briefcases
With secret codes
To Swiss bank accounts.
You’ve seen puke,
Super expensive puke
Jet out of supermodels’ yawns
As if from Venetian fountains.
Oh Limousine,
I can’t afford you,
I’m not in your league.
Aloof and pretentious,
You wait at the corner for
A jetsetter to enter you or leave.
You’re too suave to even honk.
Limousine, I want to be inside you,
I want to belong inside you.
I want to stop at a deli and step
Out of you in super slomo
So the Mexican flower guy
Thinks I’m really cool.
Limousine, I know there are mysteries
That could be answered if
I were inside you.
There are conspiracies
Only people inside you know,
And rare pleasures only
Had by your passengers.
But Limousine, I am outside,
Wanting your touch even
If you have to run me over to give it.
I’m on foot, and don’t even have a scooter!
I feel like a loser, Limousine,
But won’t vandalize you
Or kick your wheels.
Everything you have
You deserve, and I adore you
Even when you ride past me
Without rolling down your windows.