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’ve been together now 37 years

Remember boys and girls keep your tank full

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