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The neighborhood was silent. There wasn’t a soul around this eerie town and the sun hadn’t peaked out of the clouds for days. The darkness of the land had swallowed the smiles of the population and nature had ceased to show its existence. The birds must have migrated early. The wind disrupted the branches of every tree that was in front of the houses; it left only the whisper of its presence behind.
Shadow’s alarm clock blared at the appropriate time of eight in the morning and he grunted at its ignorance. His girlfriend, Jessie, didn’t seem to care too much about his morning laziness. He didn’t even bother turning off the alarm. He simply rolled on his opposing side to ignore it. That seemed to require a larger effort than if he’d just gotten out of bed. Jessie remained motionless and wasn’t snoring like she usually did. She wore a long sky blue nightgown to bed and it brought out the true color of her blondish hair. She was lying on her stomach and her hands were tucked underneath the fluffy pillow. Shadow just peered at her through the crack of his eye as the sound of the alarm clock withered away his patience. Shadow heard his three-legged basset hound, Tripod, hobble to the nightstand and he began to lick Shadow’s left foot that was hanging out of the white silky bed sheets. The saliva dripped towards the floor and the grossness of the dog’s actions still wasn’t enough to get Shadow’s dead *** out of bed. The dog realized it had no affect on him and left the room.
Shadow had just gotten fired from his job as a technical engineer at a no-name computer store. He put computers together with both new and used parts and resold them to the customers. When he told Jessie, she was not supportive at all. They didn’t speak all last night and Shadow couldn’t imagine how this morning was going to go- another “Yes, MOTHER” conversation. He always had a problem with his temper. All hell broke loose when shadow didn’t get his way, but you’d think he had been taught not to swear at his boss when he got angry. Well, on the contrary his mind and anger had gotten the best of him. Guess Shadow saw that there was no reason for him to get out of bed. But his three-legged dog seemed to think so. He kept ignoring Tripod for some time and he **** all over the rug as a result of it.
Shadow felt a discomfort among his genitals as he stumbled to his feet to go to the bathroom. He concocted his usual bowl of cereal once he reached the kitchen across the hall and slurped up every last drop of milk. He thought distressingly about what Jessie was going to bring on him this morning. The sounds of static and distorted voices echoed through the room from the television- he walked back into his bedroom to get dressed. Shadow called out for his dog.
The job wasn’t so good anyway. Shadow was displeased with his boss from the beginning but he knew he needed to receive the checks- the pay was so good. He always had a passion for building computers and when he first explored this field, Spot would sit and watch Shadow build. Spot was his first dog, around the time when he was a teenager. He would sit there until Shadow was done and that might’ve been what caused him to like building them so much- it was the memory.
Shadow continued to call for Tripod but there was no response. The aroma of the dog **** grew more and more noticeable. The doors were closed so there was no doubt he didn’t escape again. He ran all around the house, opening doors and calling outside for him; peaking behind the furniture and the clothes within his closets for him. He spotted the pile of dog **** on the living room floor.
“What are you doing, Shadow?” Jessie asked.
“I am looking for the **** dog. He **** on the rug again.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jessie.
“OUR dog!??” said Shadow.
The air began to blow through the rooms of the house and the papers that were neatly stacked on Shadow’s desk began to fall to the floor. Jessie sat up in bed and the wind carried her hair across her scull and it made her look even more beautiful than ever. Her hazel-green eyes remained staring a Shadow with the same goofy look of concern but she still looked beautiful.
“I don’t know if I’m alright. My face hurts…” said Shadow.
“Shadow, I DID hit you pretty hard last night. Remember?” asked Jessie. “I threw that little book-end at you and it hit you in the cheek bone. I didn’t mean it, I AM sorry.”
“It’s fine, Jess. I was being a ****. But really, where’s the dog?”
“I don’t know, he’s you’re dog. Let me get dressed and I’ll help you look for him,” said Jessie.
The window shades were pulled up so the light could shine throughout the house but there wasn’t much light to affect anything. It was still dark and moody in the sky and the storm was still passing though the area. Shadow had to turn every light on in the house to see, even though it was ten in the morning. He knew he needed to find a job, but he wanted to find this dog. He ran around the house looking for every trace of dog fur. The sounds of Jessie getting dressed were coming from the closet.
“Could you hurry up and help me, honey? I need to find this mutt,” said Shadow.
Shadow had given Jessie a special license plate for her birthday last year. It said “Jessie” on it and it was very hard to get. He had to call months in advance to purchase that plate. It was now implanted on his silver Jetta. Shadow’s job was right down the street, so he just rode a bike to work every day and let Jessie use the Jetta.
The job Shadow had used to drive him crazy. He’d work for hours on fixing or building motherboards and if it didn’t work, he’d have to start over. He’d come home in the worst moods after a hard day’s work. He didn’t want dinner; he didn’t want to hear from anybody, though Jessie liked to talk. And that’s where Shadow got very aggravated. He began to yell at her because she asked him questions and he would kick over Tripod’s food and water and storm out of the house in a rage; leaving the front door open behind him. But Shadow didn’t leave last night. He wasn’t the one who stormed out in a rage because he was too tired for that. Jessie left with the dog and claimed she was going to stay at her mother’s for the evening. They must have come back in the house late last night. The dog must be here. Shadow and Jessie kept looking for Tripod while calling out his name to come in sight. Tripod finally walked through the door form the back yard and barked a weak screeching bark.
“It’s about time, Podders! It’s about time we accomplished that dilemma” said Shadow as he looked up at Jessie and back at Tripod.
“What the ****?!” he said. The dog had blood all around his gumball nose and his droopy lips and walked away from them into the bedroom.
“I give up,” said Jessie. “You gotta clean that dog up because I am not going to go near that Blood; I already cleaned up the dog ****. What has he been through?”
“I don’t know…” answered Shadow.

In the mean time, I’m going to go shopping for some new shoes,” Jessie. “I’ll be back later this afternoon, alright?”
Shadow sat on his favorite recliner chair in the living room. She kissed his forehead, grabbed her keys and walked out the front door.
There was silence. He was alone.
Shadow immediately got up and opened the front door to grab the daily town newspaper from the steps. He noticed that the Jetta had already left the driveway and wondered why Jessie must have been in such a hurry. He looked down the gloomy dark street and saw no sign of life. He closed the front door, locked it, and sat back down on his recliner. He unfolded the newspaper and wiggled his toes to the melody of his improvisational hum.
The hum suddenly came to a halt. The toes stopped wiggling. Shadow didn’t seem to breathe. He read the front page of the news paper and couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a Jetta- or maybe it wasn’t because it didn’t look like one. Maybe that was the point. There was no hood; there was no front seat. There were two photos: one of the car and one of the whole accident. A Tractor trailer was involved and no one in the Jetta made it. Shadow started to breathe slightly again and came to his senses; tried to collect himself. He saw the license plate and couldn’t believe his eyes.
There was silence. He was alone. He was alone the whole time.
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
Nadine Mar 2019
Hey you, yes you the ***** in the red Jetta
Rather get a cab walk run it will be betta
What are you doing are you totally insane
Driving behind you is an endless pain

I cant over take you cause you cant decide
Can't go around you and no where to hide
Should you pull left or stay to the right
Holding my anger is becoming a fight

Just stay calm while my searing I bite
Like other ding bats he has the right
To buy a licence to drive a car
Like so many drivers he makes me naar

Now here comes a robot and look it is red
I watch in horror are you gonna stop dead
What are you doing look infront I yell
You nut case you idiot myself I do tell

Not throwing a fit is taking all my resistance
It takes my fast thinking to keep my distance
He breaks and he swerve and sways to the right
I say a quick pray as I gasp with fright

Head on into traffic thats coming his way
This way and that he swerves and sways
Oh wait a minute he dodge the Van
And the kids on the pavement left and right ran

Just missed the buss and a bush and a tree
Whippy I'm luck his back infront of me
Screeching and screaming and coming to a halt
He looks and he smiles like nothing's his fault

Others around him look on in dismay
As I think you idiot, you made it hooray
And away we go were on our way
I think should I drive or should I stay

Not even a second a metre a head
He comes to a halt and stops dead
Looking around like his lost or confused
Now I am irritated I'm not amused

What is he looking for what indeed
I scream to my self, with my self I plead
Oh it's a phone call its become so intense
We are all waiting move along no offence

If I should get out and my lid I should blow
I want you to listen I want you to know
I'll loose my insanity I'll rip of your door
I'll beat you black and blue and extensively sore

Oh thank crap the ****** bags on his way
This is starting out as a horrific day
He just keeps chatting and babbling along
Why can't he see what his doing is wrong

The guy in the Audi is ranting and raging
The guy in the Opel is totally fuming
The little old lady just looks on with confusion
This guy is living in a mental dilution

I look on intensely what could be next
I try to keep calm and put my nerves to rest
Wait a second what did he see
Ah come on man not again I plea

The chop just woke up and realised
He should of been on the other side
That was the street that he needed to take
Oh please help me for pity's sake

The little old lady on his left saw it to
She looks frightened and turns pail blue
I just look on and I think to myself
This cant be good for her mind and health

On goes the hazards and he darts to the left
The ******* around me are making me deaf
The guy in the Audi has lost his cool
He thew a spanner or some other tool

The guy in the Jetta drives happily along
Sing away to some lively song
He seems oblivious with out any care
That the little old lady is pulling out her hair

She looks like she had a seize of sort
Shaking and screaming like bull she snorts
The guy in the Audi is 5 shades of red
But the guy in the Jetta keeps moving a head

Out of the blue who knows from where
His moving along with no worry or care
Appears a stop sign in front of his car
He hits the breaks and skids on the tar

The little old lady pink buggy and all
Rolls up tightly into a little ball
How she missed him I'll never know
She quietly sits there with an evil glow

To my dismay she opens her door
And falls to her knees just there on the floor
The guy in the Jetta gives a big smile
As the little old lady falls down in a pile

She's kicking and screaming and going insane
She's up in an instant and out with her cane
She fly's at the guy sitting as stiff as can be
Eyes bulging widly this **** you should see

He lets out a scream like a ***** been attacked
And jumps on his pedal and doesn't look back
His over the stop street and round the next bend
I just pray I'll never see him agen

I look at the lady who looks back at me
Oh what a pittyfull site did I see
She was a mess and her hair was a tangled
Eyes where a flamed and her dress was mangled

She put on a smile and she straightened her hair
Brushed of her dresses and did it with flare
She turn on her heel as she head for her car
This was one of my worst days by far
BardOfTheNorth Apr 2015
Cars, what are you going to do?
One day they're fine, the next you see they are  poo.

Bad wiring on a headlight, not too bad.
But a front and rear main seal leak,  worries me a tad.
Where am I going to find the money,
Will I be able to fix my honey?
Kimmy-Nichole Apr 2011
dying
is not scary

living every day not knowing how tomorow will be
is much more scary

I hate the unknown
and how much it stings

If i cried
you would be here.

i wish i could have it back
dominic rocky Jun 2013
and it’s cold outside
on the dock
the dog is chasing mosquitoes
and I am drinking cheap wine

I wonder if my mother knew I’d be
as ugly as the world
black and blue and green
but mostly black
and I think back to high school
when I aced calculus
and made out with Ashley in the back of her Jetta
but I’ve always hated math
and Ashley died drunk driving her Jetta, I think

the dog and I head back up to the cabin
for another bottle of wine
as I walk up the steps
I can hear Hank Williams on the Silvertone
             “my bucket’s got a hole in in it
my bucket’s got a hole in it”
Word challenge using the words Rattletrap
                     fleabag, tatterdemalion, jalopy, squalid,
                     dilapidated, down at the heel. Vintage words
        
It was kind of dilapidated
But it still ran fine
It wasn’t a total rattletrap
No matter what people said.

I would like to have a new car
But I’m down at the heels right now
having lost my job last month.
I live in an aged fleabag flat
In a squalid neighborhood
Until I get back on my feet.

Everyone calls me a tatterdemalion
But I pay my own way.
And when my old jalopy died
A piece of me died too.

I  loved that little ‘0-two Jetta;
I’d get in and it would  go
The best art of it all was this-
It always brought me home again.

I couldn’t face the breaker’s yard
And see her all torn down for parts.
I donated her to charity
To help pay for someone’s brand new heart.
ljm
I loved that '02 Jetta. It only had 85,000 mi on it.  but the computer basket
developed a glitch no one here could fix and the nearest VDub dealer is 100 mi away. I got talked into a Camry which I hate and won't  drive. Hubby is now my chauffeur.
tread Nov 2012
I am the rest stop for truckers in the window
The dark and muggy photographic night
so they forget they've become widows.

I don't believe in kness nor turtles talking terror
Nor do I believe that the Earth moves from quaking tremors.

I am the cradle of the civil sight sorority
Making love to castles for I don't believe seniority.

I am the rebel which Camus told would come hold
The oldest, boldest lotus flower
Frozen solid in the cold.

Drinking Rose remembering young-old Auntie Debbie
Who had eyes like pies mixed in the ocean and a bevvy of
Insulation, house-hold and a water-forlorn view
With her lionness curled hair which the wind affectionately blew.

Sitting on her lawn chair, not on lawn but on the deck
She loved, she laughed, she looked to what she had inside her head
Like landing immigrants from countries far from White Rock shore
She had it all, she owned the sprawl, but knew she wanted more
and that she had it, glad it never took the sun from out the sky
Not once did the window break from sunlight in her eye
and doorknobs crawl left
as she sits so patient ready for the.. everything

ready for the.. everything

ready for the.. everything.

she's NOT waiting, she's just making
every single moment COUNT
lies and likes mean non to her as the counter fills up like a FOUND
fountain. she's rounding every corner in her Jetta
Uncle Jerry in the next seat, happy that he got to meet

with the women of his dreams
I see his eyes still gleam and scream
'I love you Debbie, love you Debbie'

Life and death is just the water
in the stream

forever flowing
Auntie Debbie was a river
and all rivers lead

to ocean.

she never really arrived
so she never really left.

hello, Auntie Debbie?

I know you go by a different name now.

Perhaps we'll each meet you again one day
a different body
a different face.

"You want to keep things on an even key, this is what I'm saying. You want to go with the flow. The sea refuses no river. The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving. It saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require explanation - just occupants. That's where you guys come in. It's like you come onto this planet with a crayon box. Now you may get the 8 pack, you may get the 16 pack but it's all in what you do with the crayons - the colors - that you're given. Don't worry about coloring within the lines or coloring outside the lines - I say color outside the lines, you know what I mean? Color all over the page; don't box me in! We're in motion to the ocean. We are not land locked, I'll tell you that." -Waking Life
Harry J Baxter Nov 2013
Her backbone is a long stretch of American western highway
I trace my fingers eastbound/westbound across the slats of her ribs
pressed against the skin ready to pop
She left southside Midlothian Virginia as soon as she was old enough to make her own bad decisions
sick of being looked at
eyes grading like the big fat red D's stamped on her math homework
She left by foot
bus
plain
train
that grey jetta with the scratch down the passenger side from where she parked too close to that ugly Subaru
she left me
but she needed to breathe some air that wasn't stale with mediocre pretension and the frat house odor of stale beer and sawdust
so run wild
fly free
may your lips utter cliches without fear of derision
go make your life an incredible story
beautiful
ugly
hard to look at
can't look away
make your life a story
and I'll record it
want more? find me at hbaxter94.com
Camila Sep 2013
NFL season and 49ers games.
Twins.
Dark clothes.
The cranberries music that you so shamely confessed you liked.
Rock festivals and when 80s pop is played in night clubs cause it's the only way you will stand up and dance with me.
Buffalo wings on our first date.
Zombie movies although we've never seen a movie together.
The rooftop outside my apartment that you hated cause it didn't let us watch the sunrise.
That limited edition beer we tried together and both disliked.
Random attacks of laughter, silence and my bed.
Big streets and long rides in my car and that it only takes 10 minutes to get to your house.
Watching buildings and streets get constructed because I've never seen Engineering the same way since you explained it to me and the passion you put in your career.
The sofa at one of our friend's house.
Yellow pick ups and blue Jetta's.
The space between my fingers.
Small eyes and your dad's smile.
RM
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
She said she wanted an adventure
trekking through the Mexican desert with six shooters
the Lone Ranger and her Kemo Sabe
she wanted to pack her bags
hit the road without a second glance to spare
take the Greyhound bus
or maybe her dad's Jetta
and open it up across endless highways
until the tires are stripped bare
and the exhaust smokes
she wanted to be a stranger
in a strange town
with a cardboard sign reading
    Anywhere but here
mostly she just wanted to escape
the chill of all the old ghosts which haunted her
icarus Dec 2015
There are too many things I regret telling you, darling. I regret telling you about how when I was little I nearly died in the accident that totaled my parents' Jetta. I regret mentioning that I felt like your Halloween costume was more important to you than I was. I regret that you let me convince you to help you clean your ******* room so I could feel important. I regret every tear I've made you shed and your pain is carved into my brittle bones so I know just how much I've hurt you. Honestly, I've started to realize how much of a miracle it is that you haven't changed your mind about loving a broken and battered shell of a human being wearing a smiling mask that comes off so slowly it peels away what's left of my pale, flaking skin. I'm surprised you're still interested in my thinning body and tattered soul. My name falling from your lips in ecstasy still sounds so foreign, like hearing a language you never even knew existed. You look at me like I hang the moon in your night sky, making me feel unworthy of the way you treat me, not like a broken toy but rather an ancient heirloom to be treasured and mended. I find myself tossing and turning at night wondering and worrying and whittling away at the fragile self confidence I build when I'm with you and I ******* regret. I regret not opening up and I regret the indisputable fact you could do so much better than me. There are still so many things I regret and letting you read this is one of them but these are all things you need to know and my heart is still in pieces beneath our feet. Yes, there will always be things I regret, but loving you will never be one of them.
Not gonna lie, I'm considering recording this one.
Kayla Lynn Jun 2012
I see your picture
Pop up on my dash
Oh, I guess we're still friends
At least in Cyberspace
We are…

Anyway, I see your stupid
******* picture
Unkempt beard
Slimy trout in one hand
Beer in the other

And it makes me absolutely sick
Bile swirls around in my stomach
Like blood down the drain
Of those Hitchcock films we'd watch
'Til dawn
At the foot of your bed
Wrapped in a deep sea of sheets

You're wearing that necklace
I bought you in Maui
Little rocks strung together
Black and white
I was half way across the globe
And you were still the only thing
On my ****** up mind

I wonder if you think of me
Every ******* time you take it off
To shower
I wonder if those ****** you ****
Twist the stones around
And inquire their origin


And, most of all,
I wonder what you tell them.



I walk down your street
Because I still have the same friends
As you
And we all grew up together
In this black hole we've been taught to call
Our hometown
We rode the same bus,
Smoked the same pipes,
Blew the same lines,
I guess, in a way, we were family.

Anyway, I walk down your stupid
****** up street
And I saunter past your aluminum framed
*******
That you still bother to call
Your car

And the only thing that runs through my mind
Are all those nights we spent together
In your driveway
Talking about absolutely nothing
Meaningless *******
And at the time, it all seemed so ridiculously
Pointless
But now…

Those memories are what I cherish
More than anything.

Your car is rotting away
No brakes, no engine
The windows don't even shut
And it takes every ounce of willpower
I have left
Not to key the **** out of your Jetta
Inscribe it with your true title
*******

I wonder if you'd know it was me
I wonder what people would ask you


And, most of all,
I wonder what you'd tell them.




I gaze out my window
For the billionth time
Sighing at your silhouette
In my decaying yard

Roses in hand, you patiently wait
For the only girl you've ever broken
To come downstairs
You scream out my name
Throw rocks at my window
Like we're
Sixteen again

I don't recall
How many steps I raced down
I don't recall
If I bothered to lock the door behind me
I don't recall
Much of anything

*******
Is all I can say
*******
Is all I can think
*******
Runs through my blood
My brain
My heart
*******
*******
*******.

And before I know it
My fists are at your throat
My nails are at your skin
My knuckles are at your jaw
I thrash
Eyes shut
Nothing but eternal darkness
And violence

I'm screaming
I can't stop
You're on the ground
Thorns at your side
Tears in your ducts

*******

I kick your skeleton
Smothered in skin

******* for shooting up
******* for destroying me
*******


I study the needle
And the damage done
Your gushing blood
Starlit crimson

For the first time,
I see your wounds

I wonder how it feels
For you to be the victim
I wonder what your ******
Your sister
Your mother
Will say

And, most of all,
I wonder what you'll tell them.
Kayla Lynn Oct 2010
Igniting my anger
Scarring my skin
Pulling my hair
Making a noose
With the
Strands

You drive me up a
Brick wall
Straight into
Insanity

Boiling blood
Red in the face
Screaming
Spitting
Rage

How can you
Justify our
"Friendship"

How can you
Say it's all been
"Forgotten"

My temperature
Rises
I glare at your
Ragged clothing
You live out of your
Piece-of-**** Jetta
Homeless and
Hopeless

Oh, how I despise you
Ex-lover
Ex-friend
Ex-human being

I shrill out in disgust
Just admit it
I mean nothing
To you
These days


That's not true
You retort
Getting off your
Makeshift stool
From fourth grade
Outside your old
Home

Your finger slams into me
Poking my soul
Just get the ****
Away from me
Already


Speechless
Full of emotion
Acting without
Thinking

I slapped your
Face
And we tussled
'Til dawn
'Til the problems
Were solved


But

I still despise you
Ex-lover
Of mine

And you still
**** me with
Every line
justify, makeshift, ragged, shrill, tussled.

© October 2010 Sarah Lynn
Liz Dec 2012
My hand locks into yours
the same way I taste under my tongue,
parted and warm,
humming while your lips press

with quiet insistence against your heart.
I crawl inside its steady beat,
(just the summer,
sloping hills and white stucco)

lying between the hours,
your forearms tense with habit.
The white Jetta's
an uneven cavalcade of

windows rolled down, my thighs
melt bare, and
the sun burns slow and thorough
through dusk.
The tide pulls away
the thick New England sky.
Entropy: lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder
Nun songo nu grand'ommo
nun songo nu scienziato.
'A scola nun sò gghiuto
nisciuno m'ha mannato.
S' i' songo intelliggente?
e m' 'o spiate a mme?
I' songo nato a Napule,
che ne pozzo sapè?!
Appartengo alla *****...
a chella folla 'e ggente
ca nun capisce proprio 'o riesto 'e niente.
Però ve pozzo dicere na cosa:
campanno notte e ghiuomo a stu paese
pur i' me sò 'mparato quacche cosa,
quaccosa ca se chiamma umanità.
Senza sapè nè leggere e nè scrivere,
da onesto cittadino anarfabbeta,
ve pozzo parlà 'ncopp' a n' argomento
ca certamente ve pò interessà: chi è ll'ommo.
Ll'ommo è nu pupazzo 'e carne
cu sango e cu cervello
ca primma 'e venì al mondo
(cioè 'ncopp' a sta terra)
madre natura, ca è sempre priviggente,
l'ha miso 'nfunno 'a ll'anema,
cusuto dint'o core, na vurzella
cu dinto tante e tante pupazzielle
che saccio: 'o mariuncello,
na strega 'e Beneviento,
nu scienziatiello atomico
cu a faccia indisponente,
nu bello Capo 'e Stato
vestuto 'a Pulcinella;
curtielle, accette, strummolo
e quacche sciabbulella.
Penzanno ca 'o pupazzo
nu juomo se fa ommo,
si se vò divertì,
chesto 'o ppò fà. E comme?
Sceglienno 'a dint' 'o mazzo
ca tene dint' 'a vurzella,
chello ca cchiù lle piace
fra tutte 'e pazzielle.
Si po' sentite 'e dicere:
"'O tale hanno arrestato!
Era uno senza scrupolo:
pazziava al peculato.
E trene nun camminano?
'A posta s'he fermata?".
Chi tene 'mmano 'o strummolo,
pazzianno s'he spassato.
'O scienziatiello atomico
ch' 'a bomba 'a tena stretta
"Madonna! - tremma 'o popolo-
E si mo chisto 'a jetta?".
Guardate che disgrazia
si 'a sciabbulella afferra
nu capo ca è lunatico:
te fa scuppià na guerra.
Senza penzà ca 'o popolo:
mamme, mugliere e figlie,
chiagneno a tante 'e lacreme.
Distrutte sò 'e famiglie!
A sti pupazze 'e carne affocaggente
l'avessame educà cu 'o manganiello,
oppure, la natura priviggente,
avess' 'a fa turnà nu Masaniello.
Ma 'e ccose no... nun cagnano
e v' 'o dich'i' 'o pecché:
nuie simme tanta pecure...
facimmo sempe "mbee".
Matt Nov 2015
The man of Tao
Seems dull
And confused

He is not driven on
By some shouting voice

Aimless and wandering

The customer service representative
Was a bit obnoxious

"What you can do
Is have a seat over there
For me please"

Okay?

I sat after a few moments

He just could have said,
"You are welcome
to have a seat, if you would like"

It's fine

What a terrible job
Working at a rental car place

A hierarchy of sales representatives
Trying to climb some ladder

I got the car
So I have it to go to work tomorrow

Drive carefully
Extra carefully
I remind myself

The car is a big boat
A big unwieldy Camry boat
Blah

Wish they would have had a Jetta there
With Highway One almost completely to myself
North of San Simeon
I find a pristine ocean on my left
Green covered hillsides on my right,
And a warm sun in a light blue sky above.
The stresses of the city and my topsy-turvy life
Begin to fall away as I relax and revel in it,
All alone here in my faithful Jetta.
This was a road trip I took a while ago.
I don't miss your stupid Jetta.

I don't miss your green eyes.

I don't miss you ignoring me and making me feel small. I definitely do not miss the broken promises and the way you lost interest so fast but, mostly I can honestly say, for the first time in weeks, I really don't miss you.

I used to hope for you to come back but, do me a favor and please don't.
Nun songo nu grand'ommo
nun songo nu scienziato.
'A scola nun sò gghiuto
nisciuno m'ha mannato.
S' i' songo intelliggente?
e m' 'o spiate a mme?
I' songo nato a Napule,
che ne pozzo sapè?!
Appartengo alla *****...
a chella folla 'e ggente
ca nun capisce proprio 'o riesto 'e niente.
Però ve pozzo dicere na cosa:
campanno notte e ghiuomo a stu paese
pur i' me sò 'mparato quacche cosa,
quaccosa ca se chiamma umanità.
Senza sapè nè leggere e nè scrivere,
da onesto cittadino anarfabbeta,
ve pozzo parlà 'ncopp' a n' argomento
ca certamente ve pò interessà: chi è ll'ommo.
Ll'ommo è nu pupazzo 'e carne
cu sango e cu cervello
ca primma 'e venì al mondo
(cioè 'ncopp' a sta terra)
madre natura, ca è sempre priviggente,
l'ha miso 'nfunno 'a ll'anema,
cusuto dint'o core, na vurzella
cu dinto tante e tante pupazzielle
che saccio: 'o mariuncello,
na strega 'e Beneviento,
nu scienziatiello atomico
cu a faccia indisponente,
nu bello Capo 'e Stato
vestuto 'a Pulcinella;
curtielle, accette, strummolo
e quacche sciabbulella.
Penzanno ca 'o pupazzo
nu juomo se fa ommo,
si se vò divertì,
chesto 'o ppò fà. E comme?
Sceglienno 'a dint' 'o mazzo
ca tene dint' 'a vurzella,
chello ca cchiù lle piace
fra tutte 'e pazzielle.
Si po' sentite 'e dicere:
"'O tale hanno arrestato!
Era uno senza scrupolo:
pazziava al peculato.
E trene nun camminano?
'A posta s'he fermata?".
Chi tene 'mmano 'o strummolo,
pazzianno s'he spassato.
'O scienziatiello atomico
ch' 'a bomba 'a tena stretta
"Madonna! - tremma 'o popolo-
E si mo chisto 'a jetta?".
Guardate che disgrazia
si 'a sciabbulella afferra
nu capo ca è lunatico:
te fa scuppià na guerra.
Senza penzà ca 'o popolo:
mamme, mugliere e figlie,
chiagneno a tante 'e lacreme.
Distrutte sò 'e famiglie!
A sti pupazze 'e carne affocaggente
l'avessame educà cu 'o manganiello,
oppure, la natura priviggente,
avess' 'a fa turnà nu Masaniello.
Ma 'e ccose no... nun cagnano
e v' 'o dich'i' 'o pecché:
nuie simme tanta pecure...
facimmo sempe "mbee".
KFC, Box Wine, and Oreos.
We'd scream, howl, and cry
every thought under the moon
for hours in your Jetta,
wandering McElroy Park,
or drunk on the living room carpet.
We'd take notes so we could "make art"
out of our feelings,
the laugh through tears
at the absurdity of it all.
Together,
there was fire and magic
in the dark.
Is anything forever?
Of course not.
We did that then,
But we know it now.
Inktober Day 5
Nun songo nu grand'ommo
nun songo nu scienziato.
'A scola nun sò gghiuto
nisciuno m'ha mannato.
S' i' songo intelliggente?
e m' 'o spiate a mme?
I' songo nato a Napule,
che ne pozzo sapè?!
Appartengo alla *****...
a chella folla 'e ggente
ca nun capisce proprio 'o riesto 'e niente.
Però ve pozzo dicere na cosa:
campanno notte e ghiuomo a stu paese
pur i' me sò 'mparato quacche cosa,
quaccosa ca se chiamma umanità.
Senza sapè nè leggere e nè scrivere,
da onesto cittadino anarfabbeta,
ve pozzo parlà 'ncopp' a n' argomento
ca certamente ve pò interessà: chi è ll'ommo.
Ll'ommo è nu pupazzo 'e carne
cu sango e cu cervello
ca primma 'e venì al mondo
(cioè 'ncopp' a sta terra)
madre natura, ca è sempre priviggente,
l'ha miso 'nfunno 'a ll'anema,
cusuto dint'o core, na vurzella
cu dinto tante e tante pupazzielle
che saccio: 'o mariuncello,
na strega 'e Beneviento,
nu scienziatiello atomico
cu a faccia indisponente,
nu bello Capo 'e Stato
vestuto 'a Pulcinella;
curtielle, accette, strummolo
e quacche sciabbulella.
Penzanno ca 'o pupazzo
nu juomo se fa ommo,
si se vò divertì,
chesto 'o ppò fà. E comme?
Sceglienno 'a dint' 'o mazzo
ca tene dint' 'a vurzella,
chello ca cchiù lle piace
fra tutte 'e pazzielle.
Si po' sentite 'e dicere:
"'O tale hanno arrestato!
Era uno senza scrupolo:
pazziava al peculato.
E trene nun camminano?
'A posta s'he fermata?".
Chi tene 'mmano 'o strummolo,
pazzianno s'he spassato.
'O scienziatiello atomico
ch' 'a bomba 'a tena stretta
"Madonna! - tremma 'o popolo-
E si mo chisto 'a jetta?".
Guardate che disgrazia
si 'a sciabbulella afferra
nu capo ca è lunatico:
te fa scuppià na guerra.
Senza penzà ca 'o popolo:
mamme, mugliere e figlie,
chiagneno a tante 'e lacreme.
Distrutte sò 'e famiglie!
A sti pupazze 'e carne affocaggente
l'avessame educà cu 'o manganiello,
oppure, la natura priviggente,
avess' 'a fa turnà nu Masaniello.
Ma 'e ccose no... nun cagnano
e v' 'o dich'i' 'o pecché:
nuie simme tanta pecure...
facimmo sempe "mbee".

— The End —