Rte 95

Rhode Island is a small place
but not the smallest I've ever been to

once I met this girl in a rest area
and we sat in my little red volkswagon fox
she was eighteen years old and wore a denim mini-skirt
she had ratty long brown hair
lusterless dark brown eyes
and a smile that suggested she'd never read Candide.

she talked about politics
and the smell of her grandmother's piss
I listened until the gas station opened
and marvelled how many times one person
could bore another in an hour.