I was twenty miles from nowhere
when my brakes began to fail
and when the sky turned dark, my lights went out.
All roads are m’morials to south’ners long past dead
And so’s the bridge
and so’s the general store.
George Somebody Memorial: fast gas, and faster eats
Will help you if you sleep right in your car.
But if you, when you wander,
want to sleep in some place grander
than your rental car, you might be outta luck.
So I kept on a-lookin’
and thought once I was cookin’
’cause I found a river called the Plunkotunk.
That’s when I remembered
my money, ’cause I’d spent it
on maps and cups of coffee, not on gas.
It was quite the lonely tale
and I think I mighta wailed,
when Sheryl, Meg and Gramma J druv by,
and seein’ me alone there
feel so sorry for the stranger,
especially when the stranger
was just me,
so they pack me and my things
and through the door they slings
me, so I landed on a pillow,
soft but firm.
And the lesson I then learned
is be careful when you drive
and be p’tickly careful to arrive
before the sun goes down,
before the moon comes up,’cause by then the rest are in their cups.
Fictional poetry by Kay L. Davies
posted for Open Link Monday at
The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads