May God Grant Us the Blessings of a Cheap Used Car
The bus comes when it wants. If it does.
Today, it zips by me as I stand
on the curb, waving my hands, while
the rain floods my shoes.
I’m late for work. Or will be.
Didn’t bring an umbrella.
20 minutes ago, the sky was clear.
Now I’m wet & waiting,
standing under the awning of an apartment building
& wishing these raindrops
into dollar bills, enough to buy
a used Toyota & nothing more.
Richard Gegick is from Trafford, PA. He’s worked in the hospitality industry for 20 years, and his poems and stories have appeared in magazines such as The Chiron Review, 86 Logic, Gulf Stream, and Edison Literary Review. His 2019 poetry collection, Greasy Handshakes, was published by WPA Press.
