Meeting at The Fred Meyer

Entering The Fred Meyer
Between the white lines,

Freshly pulled in: Parked.

“Learn the rules of the road,”

Said the lady-driver’s anger

From her crag of open window,

Up high on a 4×4 pickup truck machine.

“And… you’re ugly!”

Me: “You’re beautiful and kind.”

Her: “Yeah, I am. And fuck you!”

Me: “Want go out sometime?”

Her: “Oh fuck you.”

The crag closes, gears grind, and she and her beautifully combative angry disappear into the neutral parking lot traffic.

I, still seated in the driver seat of my car, write this poem in Notes on my mobile phone.

K. Shawn Edgar | Parked | Amuzed 

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