|street art, Richmond, VA|
At the garage on Old Forest Rd,
getting an oil change & eighteen point
inspection of my cars performance,
me & one other guy sit in the waiting room
while mechanics vrrrt vrrrt vrrrt nuts off,
drain thick tongues
of oil, in orange buckets & screw
filters back in place.
I like this place, they don't lie (much) to pilfer
your pocket, it's quiet & the coffee is hot,
The guy has a Tampa Bay hat & I ask,
tell him I lived there the year
they won the Super Bowl.
He's been to the stadium but never a game
& after five minutes, we lapse into silence.
I read Bukowski & he sits staring forward,
content in knowing everything we need
about each other
until the over-alled man opens the door
& with a 'be good man'
to escape into cool morning sun
that shines with no expectations.
At dVerse Poets, it is OpenLinkNight, where I will be hosting but the verse will be provided by you & about 150 other pen wielding wind mill chasers. Write something poetic & come join us. I will open the doors at 3 pm EST.