Hopes and Dust

At a gas station halfway between here
and where everyone wants to be one day,
A maid lives off the dirt and petrol fumes
kicked up and blown by those chasing dreams.

A couple and a dog stopped one Tuesday.
"Fill 'er up," they drunkenly told the maid.
On half a tank, they sped off with the hose.
The dog toppled out and they laughed away.

No one came after that to the station.
Just a scar on the long road, useless now,
and the maid sat alone with the lost dog,
looking to the far-off horizon lights.

"That's where they all go," she said to the dog,
"Being selfish and forgetting us fools
who think now is a place for tomorrow."
The dog sniffed the dirt and made mud of piss.

"It's my turn," she said to the dog. "I'm sorry."
She locked it in the station and drove off,
leaving behind "safe" and "happy" for her
own "what if"s and "I need"s, and the dog starved.


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