Those Trips Trucking To Long Island

On Friday, pick up at a scrap yard.
The most memorable scrapyard, guarded by a Mexican —
Army steel pot on, with major dents, in Chicago.

Waiting in line, the noise, dust, and comings and goings
Other trucks, employees, and the homeless and addicted.
Beat up pick-ups, bicycle trailers, to a tackle box full with copper.

Copper scrap, was like gold to them.
I took a load home to Ohio and slept on it.
Sunday, slept off the hangover then, drive to Long Island.

The road was long. The night wore on.
I put in cassette after cassette. Music smooths chuckholes.
The long nose Freightliner sung her song. Through Pennsylvania

The traffic would build in New Jersey.
The G.W. Bridge, traffic at 3 AM. Can you believe?
I pull that heavy trailer across that ratty ass G.W.

Over to the Long Island Expressway.
I sleep in the line of trucks on the steering wheel. waiting.
Early AM, unload. They even swept up the copper dust.

How could a city be so ugly?
This scrap loads on ships bound for China.
Maybe going with out the scrap would be easier than trucking.

Then, figure out how to get to Koreatown.
There is rice there going to Pittsburgh.
Nobody speaks trucker in Koreatown.