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Boxing At the Dmv

“BOXING AT THE DMV”



had an appointment at the dmv 
today. got my number, sat and 
waited. “f078, now serving at 
window number 14.” After 
taking care of business I was 
sent over to the line where 
those who passed their 
written and needed pictures 
taken stood. there was a 
skinny, almost bone thin 
white girl standing in line, 
talking with the guy next to 
her. he had just gotten out 
of jail. from the 
conversation, it was clear 
that they both knew the same 
people. I gave this girl a 
thorough scan and watched 
every move. as she continued 
her conversation she turned 
her body and placed her back 
to the rope that kept all of 
us in line. her hair was 
pulled back tightly into a 
ponytail and her eyes told a 
story I’ve heard before: she 
was trying too hard to 
present herself to his ears. 
she crossed her arms and 
placed them just under her 
bra. it was clear to see she 
didn’t have much to pick 
up during this move to keep 
his interest permanent. as 
her arms went up, the padded 
bra opened up in a pinch 
exposing her nipple. 


oblivious to this, she 
carried on. as the line 
moved, her pose stood like a 
Rocky statue in Philadelphia. 
didn’t have the heart to tell 
her the attempt for his 
attention came with a little 
extra. the pride she carried 
in having big nipples on very 
little fat was solid. as her 
body twisted back and forth, 
as the numbers were called 
overhead, as the security 
guard walked to catch 
cheaters at the computers, as
I waited there to have my 
photo taken, there she was, 
exposed and unknowingly 
proud. 
some pauses in time are good, 
some pauses in time are 
remembered, some pauses in 
time are for people standing 
in line to show more than 
their eagerness to drive at 
the dmv. I write about it. 
after all, how many chances 
does one get to tell the 
world about boxing gloves at 
the end of toothpicks?



By: Chicano Eddie
10-26-2016

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 11/23/2016 4:35:00 AM
Wow! Very strong ending, Chicano. Boxing gloves at the end of toothpicks, really. That was a bombshell statement about the situation. You definitely can mix it up w/the best of us poets/poetesses, I'll give you that. Will read more of your fascinating work as time permits over the holiday. Gritty poem, but so real and upfront. No pretenses, no fugazi. Nothing fake about you, bro. Love and joy to you and yours.
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