Auld Lang Syne

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Day 7

Write a ten-line (minimum) poem about a job you've never had but wanted to have.

Example (I could make this way longer):

Toll Booth, York Exit

The lady in the blue van
puts on eye liner, no time for me
to warn of possible scratched corneas;

A semi-conscious trucker thuds
the rumble strip, wakes up and swears:
Whoa buddy! I want to shout.

Back seat teens fight; mom's white-knuckling
through. Easy Pass won't fix bickering.
I flash her a photo of my six kids, grown now and sane.

Poet-in-residence at the toll booth, I take notes.

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