Eating Canned Soup On A Saturday Poem by John W. McEwers

A lonely spoon
and alone, me too
on a happening Saturday
under the American bright lights

I always dreamed of the fast cars
fast women
fast lives of the US of A!
and all the movie stars strutting their
bouncy stuff

I moved to Ohio for the glamour
the lights
but outsiders just
aren't treated right

Sure there's the ladies in purple
who dance in the street
and sing songs looking like
they have no idea where they are

And sure there's the woodsmen
or oilers I see
gruff men in denim
and boots so heavy

but the more middle their age
the more frumpy they find
and their mirrors are constant
and they all seem to mind
like the doughnut shop
and burgers
stacked a mile high
when you eat them you feel
like you're gunna die

There's the glitz of the downtown, of course
where the young girls puke barefoot
into trash cans the county
nicely provides