Desolation Gas Station Blues

Six in the morning and she's got the desolation gas station blues
A cold wind out of Michigan cuts right through her
Yes, much too early in the morning, she's got the desolation gas station blues.

The snow flurries round her as she rattles back the shutter
Her fingers flick switches; florescent tubes flutter and stutter
Flooding the forecourt with harsh cold light
Holding back, delineating and defining the dark remnants of night.

Six in the morning and she's got the desolation gas station blues
Dreams and a warm bed behind her, a long shift before her,
No wonder she's got the desolation gas station blues.

The coffee mug she cradles offers warmth to frozen fingers
Caffeine kicks in, discarding the final thought of sleep that lingers
Its bitter taste invites sweet compensation
From racks of treats that offer chocolaty temptation.

Six in the morning and she's got the desolation gas station blues
She thinks of the philosophers she has read; Kant, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche
Ivory tower philosophers, who never knew the desolation gas station blues.

Deep beneath her feet, embedded in the chilled earth, tanks of gasoline lie still
Enough to set her night ablaze, to burn as brightly as once to poetry she did thrill
But fate can be capricious
So now, with a mop, this washroom floor she splashes
And at this dog end of the year, all is ashes...bloody ashes.

It's six in the morning and as she mops, she's banishing the desolation gas station blues
Dreaming and scheming of westward flight to blue sky mountains and sun lit ocean
Come the spring with hope anew she'll pack her bags and leave behind these desolation gas station blues.

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• Poetry
• Poem
• Gas-Station
• Peter
• Litton

[myrnaukelele]

I can hear the blues riffs...

You should set this to music.

[nordicsky]

@myrnaukelele

Yes, I was trying to imagine this poem as a blues but I lack the skill to transfer a blues rhythm into poetry.

If you would like to take the poem and rearrange it, as you please, to fit a twelve bar blues, please be my guest.

It would be an honour to collaborate with a musician ...'cause all poets love musicians.

[tinySpectacle]

This is great. What a brilliant subject for a poem--this little space of time given life in your writing of it. Glad you will be doing more poems soon! I'll hold you to it. :o)

[DavidRandallCurtis]

Good to hear you again! Faved!

[PoetLina]

Super title! So, Pete writes the blues. Cool!

[Idlinfarm]

Great rhythm. I read the words first and then watched the vid. I expected to see you with a guitar singing the words. Nice to see you back.

[naomie76]

Excellent poem.

[ladyofire]

I had serious desolation gas station blues back in the day.  I too actually worked there once upon a time ago. Not good. But this poem is good.

Matter of fact, this piece was not bad at all...can relate completely.

Nice work.