road again

some road cops on the cruise
with nothing to do get a kick
driving fast and laying on the siren
they passed us like a bat out of hell

stopped for lunch at a mom and pa diner
in an atomic particle of a town.
out front a parking space for two was open
‘til that guy in front of me pulls into it

goes right in the middle
takes it all, he does
not thinking of me or you,
that’s how Italbillys do

during, before and after pasta,
vegetables, warm pie and coffee, i sort
piles of notes from my pockets
x ‘em out when they’re done, i do

at home i keep one of the old cigar boxes dad used
little notes and numbers
written all over it
a boy has to learn somewhere

the Giant Cyclops had it right
tell the villagers to leave some sheep
tied up by the cave at the bottom of the hill
or there’s going to be trouble, problem solved

lunch was home cooked good
made new friends
learned the river was down,
not rushing like years before

a local truck, vegetables in the back
parked outside
after lunch we gandered,
chatted, got fruit, we did

the road home, windows up against the chill,
all the way we could smell the strawberries
nestled in the trunk of the car.
now that’s a poem, partner