Last time on NaPoWriMo!!
2016 - lost in flashes - poetry of the garbage kind!
I'll do better this time,
z
the hopeless-hobo-mobile
--
Don't you think it matters
that your breath smells so bad,
or that you're eating a corn dog
in the backseat of my car — ?
I know you lost your job,
“like a week ago”, but
every time you call it a week,
another day passes by.
And I wouldn't mind you
crashing at my place so much,
if it weren't for the fact that
this car is the only “my place” there is.
But now you think it's “ours”,
like you have a stake in it.
And sure, it's nice, that we switch driving each night
because all the legal parking spots are taken.
But I can't stand any of it much longer.
Each night that I drive,
harsh headlights are all that keep me awake
through the night.
And you might not see it,
with your lazy head
buried in a paper fast-food bag —
heck, I didn't for a while —
but every time I'm at the wheel these days,
pulling an all-nighter to keep us
out of any more trouble
I consider careening off a cliff somewhere.
But I can't do that with you, snoring,
unaware and unwilling,
sprawled across the backseat,
muttering dialogue from your dreams.
So please, friend; leave my car,
and get your life together
while you can.
I really think, unlike me, you might still have a chance.
Gender:
Points: 34531
Reviews: 141