My Personal Oil War by Amy WustrinWhat 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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