Dandy leo jr.

Rookie (April 24 of 1979 / Weslaco, tx)

~ A Truckers Line ~ - Poem by Dandy leo jr.

As I initiate my 2000 plus mile trip;
I start to think about how easy or-
hard this trip will be. Will I find treasure;
will I meet interesting ppl or will the misfortune
follow my tracking scent of confusion.

I start to travel traversing state after state, wheels
rolling and cycling the black rubber. Every state trooper
wide eyed to this grand trucker: they think I carry drugs, illegal
substances. I fail to stop at the weigh stations becouse I dont
want to spend anymore time or questioning from the authorities.
Miles later my truck collapses; with many falters and malfunctions.
The weather doesn't help due to winter chill weather. I get uptight, stressed,
agrevated and disorderd. Multiple officials and not caring what their specific
funcion is: i respect the law but I dont wish to convene by no means with them.
' just leave me alone and let me go on my way I say inwardly.'

I pick up hitchikers and strangers for company; which I dont mind.
Dont care what you have done....everybody has a story; a significant
story. I drive and I roll and I see the open lands, I see snow and rain
falling like raze; sometimes I see open skies and cloudy skies and even
the sun burning my skin so irritant from half of an opened window.
My body craves sleep, I need to quench all my bodily needs. I try to
entertain myself the best way I can, this expedited freight always needs
to be sharp on time...but i must keep on moving and stay on schedule.
Many fatal accidents I see on the road. When im at the brink of slumber,
I talk to ghosts and even to myself, but I know I have to stop at the nearest rest
area for washing up; dont want to sleep or drowse down on the road...I NEED TO STAY
AWAKE. I stop at the truck stops to socialize with truckers...all they do is talk about their
enhanced truck. The waitresses so sexy and sweet, the best thing my eye has seen in a while.
I love to drive, but some days are a dire, some days are good and bad, you have to find creative ways
to make your work easier and more comfortable, Iam the trucker, and finally when i reach my point;
when I reach my destiny and homeland, it is a sigh of relief, a burden off. And after unloading, i go park at the nearest
truck stop to rest my body until the next load down.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 12, 2012



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