by Vanessa Jimenez Gabb

“The road gets dimmer and dimmer;/Sometimes you can hardly see;/But it’s fight, man to man,/And do all you can,/For they know they can never be free.” – Bonnie Parker, “The Story of Bonnie and Clyde”

Some fine poems once, in high school
Daddy laid brick, Mama was a mama
I was a waitress for awhile
To men and jail took real sick

Whiskey bottles from windows
At all that rat-tat-tat
The filling stations, the groceries
Going off all on our own

Hadn’t done a thing
Just that we didn’t know what else
There was to this but loneliness
And picture taking

In the end they took mine
Holding a sandwich, cigarettes
Lots of us in a Depression
Red dressed

Driving off someplace almost like love
In cars fast, tell me
Are we writing ballads in bank books?
Are we stealing food, gas?