Here's day eleven's submission of NaPoWriMo (a poem a day for the month of April in honor of National Poetry Month).
The parking lot
on the east end of town -
Happy Burger on the far end
Rexall Drug on the other.
The outdoor arcade had
nine trampolines covering holes in the ground
a dollar for half-an-hour.
I learned to backflip at thirteen:
throw my knees over my head
and trust the force
of my own momentum
against my worst fears.
Years later I raced your car
full of teenaged friends from high school
to Hap’s for a drive-through
double cheese, fries and a Coke
sucked down as we cruised back.
Sometimes late at night
you would hand me a five-dollar bill
and send me to buy a carton of Kools
from Rexall's after you had run out
and had no other way
of killing yourself.
“Drive careful,” you’d say.