Off Duty

 

I didn’t see the hitchhiker’s
face because I didn’t look.
Just saw my dad’s squinting
eyes and big pickle nose
in the rear view mirror stare,
then look at the road, then stare
like a good bird dog on point,
Mama murmuring, “Dick!”
We scooted closer together
in the backseat, matching red
shorts and blue sailboat tops
formed a perfect firing line row,
so slumped.

 

I didn’t hear his breath or voice,

maybe he wasn’t there.

I just kept looking at dad in the mirror.
“There were two prisoners
escaped from McAlester last night,
you look like em,” he said.
“I want you to know I have a gun
in the glove box.”
And mama passed us
Juicy Fruit gum.