Par-tay, they say

*

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

Wikimedia Commons

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