CROSSED SWORDS WITH
SIKH MARJA-BATA
(the prayer at the pump)
I tried paving his driveway, and I asked
if he'd pump my gas. In exchange I guess.
These guys now are everywhere, and
what's a fuel stop without them? Repeating
everything twice at the pump. 'Thirty-five?'
In that accent; 'No, I said twenty.' Should
I repent? What's repent anyway? Some
lady from Lent, with a big smudge on
her forehead - apparently it had never
dawned on her before today that she'd
soon enough be dying. She needed this
stupid reminder? Guys don't make passes
at girls who wear ashes? The sackcloth's
OK, but I wonder if she's ever heard
that either way?
-
The guy at the pump - I thought he was
talking to me but I see now there's a
thing in his ear and he must be talking
to whoever's there : God or the Devil,
dueling, and I see they'll both soon
need re-fueling. (Was that perhaps a
prayer?). Seventy-five to life will get
you this : All my expectations, gone.
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