Sammi's Quick Stop

Sammi's Quick Stop

That girl, she was just a note, caught

between crumpled receipts bottoming

her pants pocket and loose pennies in the purse

She learned to charge-Cumbies-gas-card

her fears, like cars’ gas cap keepin’ the tap open

runnin’ thick as an Airhead and drunk

behind the wheel.

The night before bleedin’ out her ears, sticky

beers dark with the red seeds, pop

rocks rubbed roughly into gums, she

said, “Truth is, I always loved my dad.”

Even now, Sears sign glowing

behind tinted windows, tryna speak

but nose getting in the way, tryna breathe

but hair getting in the way, coke choke and mid

twenties feeling kind of like a hang-

Over, That Girl, she remembers crawlin’.

And He was there.

Maybe not in the lines of price tag

stickers always complaining

about the wait, which was about the time

it takes to bake a pyramid produce scheme

[less than 30 secs], that

Girl was a seven-year -old

liability, drunk behind the wheel, bubble

gum hair snarled and mood a perpetual

hansa yellow, she said,

“He always explained away the lightnin’"