Grant Guy, Poetry

Keep Your Tank Full All good things must come to an end she said Why wait for the post-relational rush hour Then she slammed the door & walked out the door I thought about crying for a . . . Actually not at all I knew she would be back There’s s no gas in the car As she returned the house I slipped out the backdoor for Barbara Ann I had gas in my old ‘67 Cadillac  I drove to the corner to a pay phone & telephoned Barbara Ann & Told her I’d meet her at Woolworth’s We’v...

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