The Guy Who Fixes My Car

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Amy’s just walking
but he’s just talking
hey now,
she’s wondering,
we were walking
with no one talking
what went wrong

weed tops sway with the
indistinguishable color
of his tones.

The sound of his voice
is mowed down by a
passing fire engine.

He was saying something
about others not paying attention
And never having anything to say

(This was concocted while waiting in line at Subway and listening to a construction worker talking to the attractive sandwich artist about how his thingamabob didn’t fit properly into its doohickey. She kept edging toward the cash register to get him to move along. Everyone in line was getting agitated with Romeo, and then a fire engine blares at the traffic outside. Every face in line turns to watch the truck and wonder where it is going. After a few wondrous looks are exchanged, all again turn towards Romeo whose train of thought is rendered insignificant even to him as he passes a bill to the cashier. Momentarily, that is. He takes his sandwich from the cashier who wishes him a nice day. “Hope the fire isn’t at my work site,” he says to her.

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