Places Soon Forgotten

I went for a drive the other day to drop off some digital files for society t-shirts. As is often my fortune I got held back into the wrong lane of a busy six aisle stretch of pavement and had to make a right turn only to turn around again and get back into the shuffle.

The place where I turned around was what looked like a regular wide roofed business, but it wasn't. I really didn't get a good look at it until I was in the empty parking lot. The neon paper cut out sign on a boat trailer by the road said the establishment was once a metal working shop. The windows hid a great black nothing behind their curtainless panes. The brick didn't show any age. The structure was empty and forgotten. Its only two patrons were junky cars boasting residential phone numbers in their windshields. I don't know why it intrigued me so much. It was a place of utter desolation — not that it was destroyed — but nothing, it seemed, could ever survive there.

I felt inspired to write some kind of free verse poem about it. Sometime.