Six Days On the Road
Dave Dudley dogged it but your log book
was never behind
and if it was blame it on a West
split over mountain roads glazed with fear,
gears grabbing the grade
by the collar to choke and throttle,
steel teeth meshed, nerves frayed.
The load, Detroit V-Eight treasure, wheels
for all, two to a
garage, seven on the trailer with more
to come, swaying on
the curves, held down by chains torqued tight, wind
keening through the links,
black smoke settling into the hollars
like dark oaths sworn soft
in murmured prayer, gods petitioned for
the painful death of
Bob Patterson the dispatcher, bane
of your existance.
Six days on the road turned into years.
November 16, 2011