poem of the day 06.28.16

spitting cherry seeds at a rest area

in central pennsylvania

i am

hoping to hit someone’s big huge car

with an oval-shaped seed

as mini tanks with names like navigator

or suburban come driving by too fast

down the narrow strip of pavement

this rest area is packed with slap happy families

doing up america for the weekend

so many people are in red white and blue

or t-shirts for the military

you’d think it was the fourth of july

or an impromptu republican convention

where do these individuals come from?

i wonder, every time i see this spectacle

watching as true patriots

with pasty flesh and violent bumper stickers

pull mammoth coolers from the beds

of over-sized trucks

carrying them two-by-two

toward bird-shit laden picnic tables

as if this rest area off of I-81 were paradise incarnate

where have i gone wrong

in this vast and ponderous land?

sweaty and half dead

devoid and any and all nationalistic verve

as the dark cherry juice runs down my chin

and i miss another RV emblazoned

with eagles and liberty bells

careening by carrying people with dull eyes

and thick wet mouths of democracy

toward the unclean pissers

flat soda pop and stale potato chips

their very own valhalla in central pennsylvania

where is my nirvana? i ask myself

as i daydream empty dark bars

on sunny summer afternoons

or the blinds closed and the a/c on high

in mid-morning beds on work days

where i know i’m calling in sick

as greasy sandwich wrappers and coke cans

lie prostrate in the brown grass

like freedom’s flag limp in the  gray haze

while the people laugh

and sing along to archaic rock songs

as anxious dogs  stand chained to trees

trapped and panting in the sun

barking their feeble dissent

the only real sign that this ritual is dubious

a con job at best