Roadside musings

It’s coming up on my three-month anniversary here in Saskatoon. There are many stories I could share, but most I don’t want to waste too much breath on – although I’m sure my harrowing tales on intra-city moves will come out with a glass of wine or two (mark your calendars Winnipeg, I’ll be in town November!)

I love it here though, now living five minutes away from a river trail that is never under water – because it is built on very high ground – and meeting new people now that I have new room mates. Who are more friends than roomies.

Anyhow, I’ve been meaning to share a quirky piece of writing with you, because for those who know my brand of poetry, you know it always stems from a bizarre thought or what would happen if jumping point.

This one began with … “So what should I do to stay awake [on a 7 hour road trip to Winnipeg]?”  I had a few suggestions thrown my way, but this one was quirky and (definitely perfect) as poetry fodder. Bon Appetit!

Roadside Heist
by Daniella Ponticelli

The radio signals cuts in
and out.

The road ahead never winds around
or about.

The tummy rumbles, and grumbles and moans.
An almost depleted mobile is mute
without tones.

It’s just over half way,
where the road , ahem, stays straight and uptight.
The same feeling in your back, and the bum cheek that fell asleep

Yes, the one on the right.

Out of nowhere (if such a place exists)
emerges a sign post with directions, and text and very few

It’s a little daring, mind me – a little bold
to do as a sign says, without being told.

Follow along to a loose gravel lot
where a corner store beeps and meeps and wheezes
as a flower dies lonely in its pot.

This is the place, prime for the picking
Out on recce, as the clock keeps on ticking.

A back door, a front, with a little quaint awning
with a cashier, a vendor and a fat tabby yawning.

A Saskatchewan town if one ever did see,
but a Manitoba licence plate out for
a free spending spree.

No one suspects, it’s far out of character,
back up, butt awake and brave demeanor

Stroll in, look for jerky, milk and maybe some condoms
Act normal, be polite and then state the conundrum:

While I would love to purchase
these things here so fine,
I’d much prefer to take them as is,
as a thief would transact, you understand?
to be mine. 

Yes, I can afford it, but what good a heist would this be?
Shall I offer you some prose in exchange, or simply bid my leave?
I have no weapon, just my sharp wit.

Oh let’s call it a day and be done with it.

A blank stare, and a small wicked grin
The cashier bites the joke,
as one would poke another’s ribs.

Leave with the goods and just don’t pay
a textbook heist, the papers shall say.

 The radio signals cuts in
and out.

The road ahead never winds around
or about.

How to stay awake, stay alert, for more
to lull out of the boredom, and withhold a snore?

A heist is one way; another, caffeine
to break up the flat, and the yellow and
the unending, overbearing, just plain glaring

Saskatchewan green.



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Duncan McMonagle
    Sep 28, 2012 @ 14:44:32

    Let us know when you are coming back so we can get you in to speak to the students.


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