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My Personal Oil War

by Amy Wustrin

What am I supposed to do

When a small part of the road

Down 202

Is a landmark of Memory Lane?

Give traffic to detours

And alternate routes

While my gas gague falls and falls?

But at least this way

There are less traffic lights

And I don't have to see those ghosts

Minors with a 6-pack of coors light

In the front of Colonel's Deli

Little boys with men's bodies

Loitering at Sonoco

Or in the trailer park where Anthony used to live

Antagonizing a partially crippled gay man

Who routinely called the cops on us

While his roommate entertained us on their deck.

Or the seafood palce.

How many times I went out of my way

to get you to work

At 7 or 8 AM

Or to pick you up when work was over

You ungrateful bastard

I used up all my gas on you

up and down 202 with no remibursment

or word of thanks

Now I use all my gas avoiding

that road, that stretch of time

And living with the ghosts that

somehow manage to find me anyway.

06/06/2004

Posted on 06/06/2004
Copyright © 2025 Amy Wustrin

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/06/04 at 11:32 AM

Text aptly reflects title. A worthy tale, and who can't but relate to it in their own way? ...we all have those old neighborhood ghosts haunting us. Two or three typos though, perhaps a run through a spell checker to make this piece all that it can be. Cheers for another evocative read!

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