Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

The Dark Road Ahead

It was just before daybreak
1971 when I pretended to sleep
so that my father would carry me
to the back seat of our Galaxy
I looked up through the window
to read the signs for the last time
"Turnpike" & "Howard Johnson's"
Stew's gas station, never to be seen
again, growing smaller, smaller
still, and then gone entirely.
I can't remember Stew's face
but I remember his missing
fingers and the chewing gum

The sun rose in a new state
and as the years wore on
I always wondered if it were
a dream, one day waking to
find that I was still three years
old, yearning to aggravate my
brother with a frog in my pocket
but the waking never came
and many days passed before
I dismissed the notion entirely
frowning on the sunset, looking
at the dark road ahead.

1 Comments:

  • At 12:52 PM, Anonymous Ringo Spork, the inflammable orc said…

    I remember that day, too. We went to sleep in rural North Carolina, and awoke inside the Beltway, never to see a lightening bug again. Now I use a protein from them to make mouse cells glow....

    Somehow, the words of Bob Seger (Whom I find to be FAR more of a poet than he's given credit for) come to mind:

    >Twenty years now
    >Where'd they go?
    >Twenty years
    >I don't know
    >I sit and I wonder sometimes
    >Where they've gone

    >Sometimes late at night
    >When I'm bathed in the firelight
    >The moon comes callin' a ghostly white
    >And I recall
    >I recall....

     

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