Poem: Same Coffee as it Ever Was

Truck stop coffee in a styrofoam cup
Idling on a burner late into the evening
Has a caffeinated timeless quality to it
Much like the elderly lady at the register
Who watches wearily the wandering aisles
Of road dusted bodies pouring black coffee
Into white cups that cost a dollar and change
No matter where in the country you are

Poem: A Lonely Drive with Memories

As I drive these winding mountain roads
With an empty passenger seat
My mind goes to all my travels before
In every memory there’s always girl
Riding shotgun next to me laughing
Singing at the top of our lungs to a song
Windows down and hand on her thigh
Knowing there’s a destination ahead

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