PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN AT A GAS STATION

it’s pitch black out
you can barely see her in the dim haze
of the lights from the convenience store windows
and the overhead lights above her as she pumps her gas
one hand in her black peacoat the other grasping the handle of
the gas pump. she stares blankly at the screen calculating her total
number of gallons of gasoline and her total cost. her eyes do not flinch.
she just stares completely blankly ahead of her. no one else is there. it is just her.
even the clerk inside is in the back, maybe closing a drawer or watching the news.
but it is night and it is just her and the nothingness of three in the hollow morning
her vacant eyes stare onward and she cannot look away from this something
this unavoidable something that comes creeping in on us all
when the night turns worldless and empty
when the stars hide and you are left
to face the silence and yourself
alone in this giant world where
the lights beam down just
on you and there is
just you.

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

5 thoughts on “PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN AT A GAS STATION”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s