Monday, 30 April 2007

Drive-thru girl.

In an effort not to be outdone by Loch, I present to you Duncan, your friendly neighborhood Irish Beat Poet. At first I laughed, but it's really freaking cool:

    Down dusty roads choked with cars
    a ribbon edged in black
    traces the path your life has taken
    like the map of your soul's travels

    This path is marked with milestones
    names and symbols you come
    to recognize easily
    before you are old enough to read

    Which hunger are you filling, drive-thru girl?

    Sometimes there's a passenger
    slouched in the backseat
    His name is deadly homesickness
    and you wish he would go

    Sometimes he likes to go away
    while you take your repast.
    food your mouth knows, your brain remembers
    You feel less alone.

    Littered beside the dusty road
    like abandoned boxes
    like empty houses
    the drive-thrus tempt your hunger

    Which hunger are you filling, drive-thru girl?

    Sliding glass smeared with fingerprints
    dirty dollar bills exchanged
    a crumpled bag is handed out
    and you are on your way

    The window a link to your past
    the road ahead a map of your future
    your blood sugar a reluctant hostage
    in your quest for miles before dark.

    And once you have left
    and eaten your fare
    your belly is quiet, your thoughts are spare
    and you know, in five hundred miles you'll do it again.

    What hunger was that that you were filling again, drive-thru girl?