Crossing Paths

Crossing Paths

By: James Dubeau

A few flakes of snow

Drifted past

My fogged over glasses

And frozen white breath

Greens turned yellow

Then to red

And I pushed off

Feet struggled to find traction

Upon my peddles

As my bike rolled

Across the empty crosswalk

I looked up

My vision filled

With a large symbol

Headlights

Grill

Which I once knew well

I stumbled

I peddled

I got out of the way

Movement washed cold wind

Across my face

Clearing fog and improving vision

I turned to see

The flaxen haired motorist

Who hadn’t graced my presence

Since the sun was hot

And Cajun music

Wafted through the air

Our eyes did not meet

She had turned to fiddle

With something in the back seat

The light turned green

And she was gone

But the memories of days gone by

Flooded back

And I wondered if I would ever

Grace the tavern again

To put down money

For beers and the gambling of meat

Farmer Driven

Farmer Driven

By: James Dubeau

Big green John Deere

Rolling along

The country side

Traveling paved roads

Slowing traffic behind

A line of cars

Afraid to pass

On rolling hills

Just outside of town

There was once a time

Where this scene did not happen

Before the advent of blacktop

And combustion engines

Fields were not cut up

Divvied up

By what the taxman wished

When the fields were worked

By plow pulled by horse

Or mule

Or oxen

We are all victims of his success

A nation grown fat

Bloated

On bounty filled bread baskets

Us in our automobiles

Pissed off

Him in an air conditioned king cab

Hoping seed prices

Don’t send him under

Cross Word

Cross Word

By: James Dubeau

Up and down

Over and across

The rope does tie

It does bind

No more struggling

No more screaming

From the battered and bruised

Locked away

In the dark little boot

As we bounce

Along old dirt trails

In search of a hidden land

For a shallow dug

Deserving resting place

For what was said 

Here I Sit

Here I Sit
By: James Dubeau

Here I sit
Waiting
For the day’s events
To come to me
Killing time
In my car
Trying to write
A poem or two
But I cannot
Not today
For
My pen is dead
Out of ink
Unable
To scribble
A line
Or two
While the radio plays
And the sun
Falls across the sky

Foxy In Blue

Foxy In Blue
By: James Dubeau

From the day
We first met
I was in love
With your boxy frame
And angled curves
Some may disagree
But to me
You were a fox
In the way
You wore that blue
And that shine
Upon your grill

Death Of Me

Death Of Me
By: James Dubeau

The warning signs where there
From the very first day
When I drove that car
Down the snowy thoroughfares
When she bucked
And she slid
With no traction at all
Did I finally realize
I had not anti-lock breaks
Fortunately though
As the snow bank drew near
The tires did grip
Saving me
From certain destruction
However that was
But only the beginning
Of the trials and tribulations
That car has been through
For it has run into a brick wall
Backed into a mailbox
Shot with a BB gun
And covered with eggs
On a cold winter night
About a year ago
It was even rear ended
Cracking up the bumper
One of the worst
Was a few months ago
When I was merging onto the highway
In the dark or night
Traffic barrels guided me
As I merged from the left
Semi truck headlights blinded me
Threatening to run me over
Merging cautiously
But a bit to slow
The mirror caught a barrel
Popping it from the frame
Tonight however
I am glad
That I never replaced the mirror
For when I returned
To my loving car
From an evening with friends
The entire mirror assembly
Was no where to be seen
Once again my poor car
Had been hit
And scarred
Against this world
So remember this friends
When I die in the car
That you read it here first
My car which I adore
Will be
The death of me

Why Is There Snow

Why Is There Snow
By: James Dubeau

Why is there snow
On my car
This lovely
April morning
Please
Do not tell me
It is because
Wisconsin
Is where I call home
For there really cannot
Be any other reason
Than because
Mother nature
In all her glory
Sought to destroy
Bring me to my knees
With all the pain
And suffering
These frigid temperatures
Bestow upon me

Driving Twice

Driving Twice
By: James Dubeau

Driving twice
The limit of speed
Through icy corners
And neighborhood streets
No cop will stop me
No cop will see me
For all cops will be
At the fire
Behind me
Watching the smoke curl
Over the streets
Onto the overpass
Blocking everything off
Watching the destruction
All is clear
In every direction
Only black ice
Snow banks
Other drives
And
Possibly
Whiskey
Stand between me
And getting home

A Moment To Vent

A Moment To Vent
By: James Dubeau

Fucking people need to go
They need to sod off and die
There is no need to shoot my car
Breaking the driver side window
Just because you are bored
Should not be a reason to egg my car
Nor because your drunk ass
Doesn’t know how to drive
Or pay attention to the road
Give you an excuse
To rear end my car
Smashing the bumper to bits
Why does the general public
Only agree on one thing
Which is that I cannot
Have nice things
My car must be battered
Beaten
Shot
And disgraced
Until the semblance of a nice thing
Has gone away
But I give a fair warning
To the general public out there
Hell will be paid
If anyone is ever caught
Fucking with my car

Electrical Excitement

Electrical Excitement
By: James Dubeau

My fingers reach out
Softly caressing
Thumb pressing down gently
Before jumping from electrical excitement
Finding the right buttons to push
Holding down firmly
Fighting the resistance
My mind counts out
Three…
Two…
One…
Waiting for the right moment
A silken purr reaches my ears
I devilishly grin
You are mine
Mine to caress
Mine to control
As long as you purr
We will be together

I'll Take You

Jack threw his cell phone against the dash of his car and swore. Why could his car not start? In frustration he grabbed his cell phone again, ready to slam it against the dash again. Out of vain hope he checked it again for a signal. Maybe the impact of the phone on the dash aligned the right wires, or some cosmic force was smiling, because Jack had service on his cell phone.

Quickly Jack grabbed his oil change receipt and called Quick Lube before his lost service again. “Quick Lube, how may I help you?” a voice rang out over the din of the shop.

“I was just in your place a couple…”

“Quick Lube, can I help you?” a second voice came over the phone.

“I was just in your place…” Jack hesitated, the level of shop noise that was coming over the phone was unbearable. “I was just in your place not to long ago for an oil change and now my car wont start.”

“Why don’t I transfer you to the service manager,” the second voice said. After a few seconds a new voice was asking Jack why he called. Jack explained that his car wouldn’t start.

“I don’t see how your car not starting could be due to our oil change.” The voice retorted.

“You guys were the last ones to touch my car. Everything was fine before my oil change.” Jack’s body temperature was rising with his fury.

“I still don’t see how your car not starting could be the fault of our oil change.” The voice reaffirmed its statement.

“You just lost yourself a loyal customer.” Jack said just before hanging up. He did not want to loose his cool in a pointless argument. The service manager wouldn’t take any blame.

Jack read through the receipt once more, picking apart every detail. It was obvious that they did not vacuum the car as the receipt indicated. Then, something caught the corner of his eye. His headlights were turned on. Jack never turned on his headlights because they automatically turned on when it got dark. Jack sighed as he realized that the oil change place must have turned on his headlights for a safety check and forgot to turn them off.

A car pulled up next to him as he looked at his cell phone and saw it didn’t have service once again. A cute young blond was behind the wheel. Jack explained what happened and that he thought he had a dead battery.

“I don’t have any jumper cables with me, but I’ll take you to a store,” she said. Jack nodded in agreement and hopped into her car.

Crossroads

Jack left Quick Lube with a smile on his face. The service at the oil change store was at the superb levels that jack prefers. Everyone was full of smiles when he pulled up. The employees were friendly and gad to see him. Even though they were under staffed for the day, jack’s car hit a short lull in business. A short twenty minutes later and jack was already paying his bill and heading out the door.

After a long day in the city Jack headed for a drive in the country. In a matter of minutes the highways devolved into small county roads. He pulled up to a crossroads; Jack could head back into town or drive deeper into the country. Unable to make up his mind, Jack pulled over to the side of the road. A handful of apple trees flanked a small pong in a picturesque view.

Jack got out of his car, breathed in the country air and strolled down to the pond. His mind was wondering as he picked an apple from a tree. Laying down near the pond Jack’s thoughts were to simpler times. Not wanting to think about his days in the city. His eyes grew heavy after he finished his apple. The peaceful country surroundings lulled him to sleep.

After resting for a spell Jack dragged himself back to his car. He put his keys in the ignition and turned the key. Nothing happened. Jack pulled out his cell phone, to call for help, but could not get a signal.

Twilight

The sun fell and the stars rose behind the buick as it charged down the highway. “Are they following?” she asked as she clutched my arm.

“Shhhh,” I whispered. “It will all be ok.”

We had not been out of the city long. The excitement of the day had drawn out into the pre-night twilight. “I’m scared,” she said as she pulled tight on my arm. I told her that everything will be fine, that she will be safe as long as I am protecting her.

The girl fell asleep while holding my arm while I drove. It didn’t bother me that I couldn’t move my arm while she slept. I was almost comforted by her reliance upon me. I had been a washed-out bumb for so long that I had forgotten what it was like to be needed.

Truth be told, I’m scared. Twenty years and thirty pounds ago I could have handled this, but now— I’m old, I’m washed-out, I’m a nothing. Everyone that I have ever tried to protect before has met a grizzly end. I had always tried so hard, but even the fate of my charges sealed the end with my long carrier with the force.

I can protect myself just fine, whether it be a bar fight or a shootout, I always seem to come out on top. It is something different when you are in charge of someone else. God only knows how much I hate an escort mission.

Used Car

She was blue
Little
Fast
My four on the floor
Chariot of doom
With that fine European styling
That would make all other turn
Stare
And say
What a boxy piece of crap
But that little four banger could move
When prodded a bit
Prodded I did
Taking tight turns
Screaming down the highway
Hot rodding that car
Into oblivion
Enjoying the good times
And the bad
I miss her
My blue, little, fast
VW Fox

Standard Oil

I’ve been afraid of putting air in the tires ever since I saw a tractor tire blow up and throw Newt’s father over a Standard Oil sign. But here I was, the old station wagon had gotten a flat. I had changed the flat with a spare on the side of the highway in the blistering heat. The twins started bickering again once the car had started moving again. Adding to the cacophony of noise was my wife scolding me about taking better care of the car and the family. It was all my fault that our vacation was ruined before it even started.

Concentrating on the road ahead I tuned out my family and kept on driving. In the shimmering distance I could make out a gas station. Finally a break from it all! With a squeak the car came to a halt next to the air pump. The twins and my wife dashed into the air conditioned general store before I had the trunk open. I wheeled the tire to the pump and put the hose to it. Air rushed into its new rubberized home as I felt something ominous behind me. Slowly I turned to see a Standard Oil sign…