- Jimmy Broccoli
Truck Stop
Updated: Nov 18, 2020
I splash my face with the water from the decaying toilet
at a dirty truck stop restroom off Route 66
The faucets are dry, like the sun and wind outside,
my skin burned and hot from the lingering rays
The restroom smells like years of urine
and smeared poop on the mildewed tiles
Filth attacks cracked porcelain,
a semi-shattered mirror and neglected dented stall doors
Ancient graffiti decorate the concrete walls
with aging phone numbers and amateur scribbling
As I exit the restroom, the unforgiving air stabs the air
as perspiration saturates my worn out t-shirt and faded jeans
The landscape is littered with long, dried up weeds struggling to exist
Never-ending dirt for miles and cacti
Not far from the antique gas pumps are rusted
and seemingly abandoned trucks with broken windows and flat tires
The dull and discolored truck stop sign looks down at the ugly topography and the neglected, scattered piles of trash
Next to the dilapidated building
The asphalt of the disintegrating road
Brags of mirages and far off places
A parade of vehicles pass by my extended thumb
As I walk backwards towards nowhere
Anywhere is better than this
Anywhere
