A Wave of the Burger, by Dale Wisely

I'm in my patrol car
and I ges­ture to let a big guy,
dust­ed with white paint,
make a left in front of me.

He's dri­ving an old pickup
bur­dened by ladders.
There is a thick layer
of debris on the dashboard.
Cig­a­rette packs, food wrappers,
maps, receipts, work orders.

He cuts a big, slow,
slop­py arc across my path,
turn­ing the wheel with the heel
of one palm.

He's eat­ing a hamburger
and has it in the oth­er hand.

As he passes,
he salutes me with
a wave of the burger.

Fail­ing to do so would be

Dale Wise­ly grew up in Arkansas and lives in Alaba­ma, where he edits
Right Hand Point­ing, White Knuck­le Press, and One Sen­tence Poems.

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One Response to A Wave of the Burger, by Dale Wisely

  1. fjsharp says:

    This doesn't end where one may expect it to end. It's also a poem you can share with your poet­ry-pho­bic friends.

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