|
At the Circle K by Uriel Tovar The moths circled above me--
fading in and out of the parking lot's dirty
yellow
glow.
I kicked loose pieces of pavements from the cracks
watching them roll
away from me
and towards you.
Your greasy black hair formed waves
over your torn and faded blue jeans as you entered through
the sliding doors.
You came out with a case of bud and
a bag of doritos.
smiled and nodded--Flicking my fag away
hoping those sparks
would catch fire.
You got in your car and drove away.
01/05/2006 Posted on 01/05/2006 Copyright © 2026 Uriel Tovar
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 01/05/06 at 11:42 AM I like the imagry. i could see the whole scenerio play out in my mind's eye. it was like a mini- movie- I enjoyed it.
Joan |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/05/06 at 03:42 PM "hoping those sparks would catch fire" - I love this line and implication... fascinating structure. |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 05/15/06 at 06:18 AM Uriel, congratulations on POTD! YAAAAY for you.
~Chelle~ |
|