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?
