The girl that waved me through the four-way stop
Looked young to me. The college campus lay
Ahead, the interstate behind, non-stop
Student traffic north of her, and south -- grey-
Blown unknowns, maybe hazy quarries, lots
And houses, desert roads and truck-ruts cut
Through open lawns. An aimless playground dots
Their back forties, where plastic blues abut
Extruded red and yellow schmaltz. The costly
Mortgages split four ways let co-eds raise
Themselves, rich until the bill comes due. Lost, she
Revs her Tacoma through my wake and prays
She went in order - Jesus, teach me driver's
Ed - hide me from the eyes of nine to fivers.
1 comment:
Lovely and very thought-provoking. A testimony of the uglier side to the joys of young adulthood in this American dream.
Excellent imagery recreating the scene with the narrator's perspective on the drama mundanely unfolding daily.
Ah, looks like life around here as well. Reminds me as well of recent musings regarding having children anyway.
Sweet. I like this snapshot of real life. Way to go! Only, you know me, I'd rather pick the beauties I romantically can make out of it, hahaha. Too good. I enjoyed it!
On another level, methinks you might have tried to find another word for "stop" as opposed to using it twice, if you care. "Drop..."? Though this makes its reuse seem all too necessary, hence why quibble about particulars as if they matter?
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