I drove through the armpit of Oregon

Twice today

Once with a car alive with chilren

Attention enrapt with the audio book

On the CD player 

 

Once by myself

Trying not to feel forlorn

Trying not to feel the emptiness

Of the car on my way home

Of my home for the coming week

 

The lack of noise

Of dirty dishes

Of missing dishes

Of waterguns left carelessly

On the floor

 

We've made this trip before

We would roll up the windows

As we approached the dreaded spot

And try not to taste the B.O.

Of the town

That noxious, foul smelling skunky air

Belched out of the paper mill by the freeway

In a town that looks like

yesterday's deflated leftovers

Without so much as a garnish

 

Now, our car has

Air conditioning

And we must only bear the eyesore

Without the benefit of smell-o-vision

As we speed toward the lush green farmlands

To meet Grandma and Grandpa

As I speed home alone in an empty car