Gravel Road Poem by nathan martin

scattered rocks crackling under a 76
chevy truck, cumbersom rusty and dented.
scattered thoughts of a small child.

he peers out the bedroom window..
a pair of headlights dance over shadows
of trees and mudpuddles.

that same rusty old harbinger of anger coming
closer and closer to him carried by steel
and gravel, how he hates the sound of it.

dark hair.. alcohol... violence and fear
are all called father to him.

you know he has an impediment they
say just listen to those unsequential
consonants and that dirty face.

dope and booze are waiting futher
down the road at the end on the left
hand second hand side..