A day\'s foam

after two hours of nervous driving on the gravel road 
we entered, still steamy from the journey, 
the automatic car wash. a thick foam gushed 
from numerous nozzles and the inside went dark. 
i took his right hand and put it on my knee. 
instantly the world picture changed: as if whacked 
by an adrenalin brush, he pushed his hand 
upward: the moisture saturated the panties 
faster than the water cascading madly down the car\'s slopes. 
without shifting his torso, he suddenly thrust his hand 
under my bottom, his slender nervous middle finger 
starting to conduct a militant rendition of beethoven\'s ninth, 
known to me mainly from the clockwork orange: a philharmonic, 
a famous jewish soloist with a hard-to-remember name, 
a flickering lamp far away from the stage, 
and a hand conducting energetically. 
i pounced like a jaguar, opening the way 
for him, unzipped his dark blue bermuda shorts 
with side pockets to have the bloom come out, 
and a joyous, well-shaped dick was already wriggling 
in my mouth. i had my tongue bore vigorously 
until the sickly sweet topping reminded 
me of the circumstances. the dashboard clock 
indicated four minutes had gone by, if i had remembered 
correctly when we had slid in. big fan tubes 
were driving the car that shimmered 
in the unbearable sunlight of the hot summer afternoon. 
the green light came on and with a routine flick 
of his hand he put the stick in drive. 
the cashier at the exit waved 
a lazy goodbye. 

Pjena dana

Pjena dana

nakon dva sata nervozne vožnje po makadamskoj 
cesti ušli smo, još vreli od puta, u automatsku 
autopraonicu. iz mnogobrojnih je mlaznica 
sunula gusta pjena i vidik se u vozilu sasma zamračio. 
uzela sam njegovu desnu ruku i privukla je na svoje koljeno. 
slika svijeta u hipu se promijenila: kao da ga je 
ošinula adrenalinska metla, šmugnuo je rukom 
prema gore: vlaga je probila gaćice brže od slapova 
koji su se rabijatno slijevali niz svijetle padine vozila. 
naglim je pokretom istu ruku zavukao ispod moje guze, 
ne pomičući se sa sjedala, i tankim nervoznim srednjakom 
počeo dirigirati ratnu izvedbu beethovenove devete, 
meni uglavnom znane iz paklene naranče: filharmonija, 
jedan poznati židovski solist teško pamtljiva imena, 
jedna treperava svjetiljka daleko od pozornice 
i ruka koja dirigira energičnim pokretima. 
sagnula sam se brzinom jaguara i tako mu 
otvorila put. jednim trzajem rascvala sam zatvarač 
na njegovim tamnoplavim bermudama s džepovima 
sa strane i veseli, lijepo oblikovani kurac već mi se 
koprcao u ustima. snažno sam svrdlala jezikom, 
sve dok me sladunjavi preljev nije 
podsjetio na okolnosti. po satu na armaturi 
prošle su četiri minute, ako sam dobro zapamtila 
vrijeme ulaska. veliki višecijevni fen sušio je 
automobil koji se ljeskao pod nepodnošljivim 
svjetlom još vreloga ljetnog popodneva. 
upalilo se zeleno na semaforu i on je 
rutinskim pokretom ubacio u brzinu. 
blagajnica na izlazu lijeno je 
mahnula pozdrav.