Pick'er Up

ah . . . I recall those days  
of just keeping time with myself  
or maybe find a good spot  
perhaps a wicked girl in some sleepy town  
forgot those bad ole roads  
when I realized I couldn’t have  
my dream and make it fit  
within my thoughts  
found a noisy old car  
sittin’ beside some towns junkyard  
rusted out old Studebaker    
I got’er cranked  
heading out of town  
and there she was  
standing at a bus stop giving me that look and  
great smile    
whot could I do  
I swerved over sat there idling  
I’m going your way
she said, leaning through the window  
what a sight that was  
I’m called Laura  
but you can call me anytime  
well looka here, said to myself  
my heart was playing music  
my groin, er,  
playing hard rock  
before hard rock was even born  
we headed west  
I had a little money  
she knew how to get more  
by the time we made it to Reno  
she said  
I’ll be getting out here  
what’s here I wanted to know  
she put her hand inside her raggedy purse  
pulled out a thirty-eight special  
ex old man, ex girl friend  
they need a lil’ ‘splaining to do
watched her  
merge into the crowded sidewalk  
sat there wondering how lucky a man I was  
I’d rifled through her purse  
twice as she was sleeping  
no sign of that thirty-eight special  
she showed to me  
before she went looking for those two  
   
©January11, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton