So, stranded on Framingham Turnpike,
I walked from the corpse of my Vette
(Unsure just what gasoline burns like),
as far as my high heels could get.
The tow trucker guy got my blood up,
his big chest all covered in hair.
He wordlessly lifted the hood up,
and studied the engine with care.
I’d let the poor pistons get wet, or
my battery somehow went flat?
He said, “Crap in the damn carburetor.”
“How often, dude, must I do that?”
Categories:
framingham, car,
Form: Rhyme
81
I found
A place
But not sure
My mind
Can release
All the ones
In Framingham
Given to peace
To start anew
It’s a wide
Big world
For me to use
I’m sorry
Baby
If I had
To leave
You behind
Categories:
framingham, absence, abuse, addiction, adventure,
Form: Free verse
168
So now I go
And walk on
Away from
This jail and
A place called
Framingham
But here I
Find myself
Here again
Categories:
framingham, abuse, america,
Form: Free verse