(Near the New Mexico border)
The Little White Car lived in a world where things make a line.
Cars don’t pass when they are in the gas station que
Order and politeness keep horns from honking
Silence proceed them every where.
Cars take turns at four way stops and
An out-of-towner is recognized by the sound of his horn.
Now out in the world
The cars behave differently,
Parking and rushing and skimming too close.
Oblivious of each other
Not carrying a whit
About where they were going
Whether the others were angry
They pull up to gas pumps
And their people go anyway but do not buy gas
Leaving the car running, taking someone else’s places.
Oblivious of each other.
And they can drive around or through
Or sideways if they choose.
The car felt threatened as in it’s little white coat,
Getting it’s gas
With the card in the slot.
It’s carburetor or computer needed time to think.
It knew where it was but didn’t know how to act.
The pickup in front was big and not clean
The man that drove it look big, burly and mean.
The Cigarette stand that lived next door
Was getting lots of business
So parking was short.
The Gas Station slot worked just as well.
Little White Car looked on in awe wishing it
Had courage to park, not get gas and send it’s person
Across the way to shop for socks.
Service stations in New Mexico are amazing. If you don’t know how to survive you will never get $2.73 a gallon gas and yes the guy in the pickup did go next door and buy cigarettes. We filled our tank as ten or more other people did and he still had not returned!