Wayne Burke

Goodbye Deidre and Patrick I got disgusted becauseno one would give me aride, and I said “the hellwith them—I will walk,”and I walked until I cameto a pub outside Wexfordand I went inside and drankwith the people, and toldthem I was going to walkaround Ireland and somewished me luck and onegrave-faced guy took measide to warn me of thedangers, especially in thenorth-west, and I thankedhim and the others andbought 3 warm bottles ofstout for myself and wentand walked until the roadwas black as tar and myfeet had disappeared, andthen a car came alongand Deidre and Patrick fromthe pub took me to theirhome and gave me a cotand I slept until morningwhen I woke and leftwithout saying goodbye. Truck Driver Stepped out of the ditchand let go of the shoveland took hold of the wheelof a dump truckthat I had trouble backing upand went off the road twicestopping the job each time as they towed me outand the supervisorafter the second timesaid “get out of the truck”and I climbed downbut did not take the shovelhe offeredbecauseI had calluses enough.

Wayne F. Burke's poems have appeared in Red Savina, Black Wire, Bluestem, the bicycle review, Locust, Insert, The Commonline Journal, Curbside Splendor, American Tanka, and elsewhere. His book of poems WORDS THAT BURN is published by Bareback Press (2013). He lives in the central Vermont area.