the pumping never stops, the long lines
of cars, the toggle switches turned on
(Pay before you fill.)
the manager prods each car
forward, but no one moves,
each car blazing with static electricity,
each driver worried about oil
and how to spill it.
windows rolled up, kids in the backseat
bouncing rubber balls off
mom’s head, her gum snapping inside
her head, her teeth grating, waiting
to get home, but no attendant
appears, no window washer comes out
with a smile for the kids,
a rose for mom.
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Reviews of "Static"
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Reviewed on December 26, 2005
I miss those full service stations. A lot of allegory here....enjoyed reading.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Ron
Love Tinka