Truckin'
I was looking through some really old writing this morning and found something that reminded me of a hobby I had when I was 15-16. I’d get a Writer’s Market magazine and find weird, hyper-specialized magazines; things like Meat and Poultry Magazine and Walls and Ceiling Magazine . I would write poems and essays to these magazines, pretending to be an enthusiast about whatever the topic was, anticipating how cool it would be to have a binder full of rejections from these freaky publications.* Last night, I found two poems I wrote when I was 15, for Truckin’ Magazine. The first one is called Truckin’ Man. Truckin’ Man My man was sent to prison For a crime he didn’t do. He killed a man in an unfair fight Outside the VFW He left me with 3 children And we do the best we can Waiting here in our mobile home For our good old truckin’ man He drove his rig through hell and back To put food on our table And I know he’ll do it again one day Just as soon ...