BY BENJAMIN MURRAY
Old blue Chevy truck,
out of state plates.
In the bed, the man’s missed
dreams: 70’s green Lazy-Boy,
child’s red bike and rusted chainsaw chains.
After I stirred him awake,
after I propped the heavy hood,
after I got the jump box set,
the man, shirtless, oven-baked, moved
half-built—as if God insisted he was
finished—and leaned against the bed,
fumbled with his jeans
and peed.
Before I waved him goodbye,
before I returned the jump box,
before I told my boss
that he was on his way home
to see his daughters and sons,
I told him to try it,
and the Chevy heaved
into life.
Benjamin Murray is a graduate of Eastern Washington University’s MFA program, advisor for Transformation Tuesday, a poetry and performance event with a focus on marginalized voices. He enjoys roaming the woods of the PNW for Sasquatch and kayaking rivers. His work has appeared in Northwest Boulevard.
Image Credit: Taylor Friehl
Read by Benjamin Murray