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Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Poem - Drive Thru

I place my order
(and of course I got the big fries)
and pull my new blue car around to wait
behind a red rust bucket Buick.

I watch the girl working drive thru
through the tinted window;
she is nothing outstanding
but she seems happy
in her job.

She turns to fill a soda
and I notice in her rear pocket
(okay I was checking her out)
a sonogram picture;
she seems so young
and yet she seems

As she hands me my drink and
we exchange money I resist
the urge to comment on the
picture in her pocket.
(What could I say anyway? I
don't want to come off as nosy.)

She says, "have a nice day"
in such a friendly way. She
must be happy with her life.

I take my food and drive off.
I take my food and drive off.

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