Tuesday poem #632 : Jennifer May Newhook : Parking Lot Poem

 

 

My boy, I worry for you.

Almost eighteen, brilliant,

and lagging academically.

 

ADHD/anxiety/depression:

the lockdown triad.

 

In the parking lot of HHM

it’s 10 AM—late

and to further delay

you’re asking all the right questions:

Do you think it’s right

to use robots as slaves?

What about sex bots

is that OK?

 

Rain drivels down

the windshield and our heads swivel

to follow a girl

fleeng the cinderblock entryway.

Angry, sad?

Tearstreaked, anyway—

she plunges into an idling 4 x 4;

 

just like OJ, the teen driver

tears away.

 

All those kids still locked in

learning all the wrong things . . . 

 

Outside,

the right conversation

is rushed,

in a pot-holed parking lot,

 

too late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jennifer May Newhook writes poetry as well as short- and long-form narrative fiction and has been published in literary journals and magazines locally and across Canada. Her first poetry collection, Last Hours, published by Riddle Fence Debuts Press, was released in spring 2024. Jennifer lives in downtown St. John’s, NL (Ktaqmkuk) with her partner and their four children.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan