JALOPIES

[Jeff Jewett]

For Father Luke, thanks for pointing the way.

JALOPIES

jeff jewett

THE OLD PLAYGROUND

I went to my elementary school.

The old playground was in the same spot but had been remodeled.

The old playground.

As an adult, I too have been remodeled.

We stood there in the night regarding one another.

I remembered playing in the sand. I remembered my first fight.

Climbing the fence to leave, I heard the clink-clink-clink of a chain
that hung from a tetherball pole.

My old playground at the elementary school, it too remembered.

@
LITTLE BLACK CURSOR

I click on start new topic. Subject: I leave it blank.

Little Black Cursor, blinking, waiting...white space listening,
wanting.

Little Black Cursor pumps, it pumps. It is prepared to leave behind
codes from my thoughts like a trail of crumbs from my consciousness.

Little Black Cursor, a God in this world of white. Nothing comes
before it, ever. It pumps. It must. Everything that gives birth
pumps.

@

HIT THE STAGE

I hit the stage. This stuff will put you on the streets. I feel like
shit. I need another hit.

@

JALOPY

I'm on a desert road with my thumb out. I don't care where I end up.
I need a ride as far as that ride will take me.

Here comes a bad memory. I put my thumb down.

Look at the exhaust that thing puts out. Choking, I let the jalopy
pass and spit out the knot stuck in my throat.

Here comes something funny. I put my thumb down.

Can't be that funny, its moving too slow; but I got a good look. Next
time.

A long, long time I have walked this road with my thumb out. In all
the time I have hitched, I have been followed.

The windows are tinted, and it creeps far enough in the distance where
I cannot see the model.

I don't care where I end up. When that one picks me up, it'll take me
all the way.

jeffreyjewettcopyright2007