Parking Lot Poetry

Fiber Optics

I’ll never understand what Fiber has to do with Optics,
Unless watching the recommended dose of social media
Everyday is the best way to stay regular.

For What It’s Worth 

Even writing this I’m still forgetting I’m going to die.

Lasso up Heaven!
Shout sad the sky!
Look up and up and …
What was I talking about?
If I die today without a friend,
To understand my tears, my joy,
Or what my death will mean to me;

I’ll die never having shared the value of my loneliness.

Shake a Leg 

(Oh for Heaven’s sake,
Here’s that verse of penned metrics;) 

Are we fated or clean slated?
Are we forsaken or just shaken?
Do we rhyme or is it chance?

A poem is just,
Fastwords,
In a slow measured dance.

What I’m Wearing

Everybody’s got brakes to fix,
Bills to pay, money they don’t have,
Something money won’t buy.

Sitting in the sun,

Sunroof on tilt at an angle.
Maybe 30 degrees,
Maybe 40 degrees outside.

You walked, almost ran by,

Black top, blue jeans
What I’m wearing,
On a short voluptuous

Woman always in a hurry,

Always not
Wanting to be
Where she’s going.

Like a Good Person Would

We go about our days
Everyday, doing everyday
Walking the parking lot

Plastic bags over one wrist,
Limping cause the ice cream
Cartons are double bagged.

Easier to carry five bags,
Then to have to walk
The cart back to the curb
Like a good person would.

Wynn