Spinning Wheels

A Gritty Poem

Image: Unsplash

Passing some time after leaving the five ’n’ dime.
Spinning wheels.
Cruising down the 509.
I was on my way to my friend’s place.
The one in high school we called Slime,
But we don’t hold it against him.

I heard a bump and a thump and a bump and a thump and a bump and a thump,
But I couldn’t place it.
Is it a tire, a flat?
Could be anything in this old piece of shit.
I pulled over and had another listen.

From the side of the road,
The bumping and thumping were still pounding even after I parked.
Is it my head? I thought.
Have I been drugged?
What’s happening?

I got out of the car.
It was dark.
I thought about going back to the bar.
Once I was out I could tell that the sound was coming right outta hell.
Or maybe the trunk, I couldn’t tell.

Thinking about hell reminded me of my dad.
I didn’t want that.
He used to drive a car like this, back in the…