Is It Poetry
A spell, a well soaked rag
sits well and nearly out of reach unless.
A spell is when it's open dirty, but is closed.
Oil soaked around the bend the elbow is.
The smell around the bushes how they do.
A little stunted here and there you know because.
Oil-soaked, where gas is sold, soaked coal oil rags.
Patches on the asfhalt black translucency.
Pumping, pumping, pump the moving evening dress.
One cut above the knee becomes her considerably.
The motel in the lobby by the pump the awning shows.
A woman pumping gass beneeth the moon it's light.
The window shows her face, it really can not be it is.
Is It Poetry's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem ( Filling Station by Is It Poetry )
Did you read them?
- Flow with time, hasmukh amathalal
- five hundred and whatever..., Mandolyn ...
- Copyrights, Mark Heathcote
- Freedom Not Permitted, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Feel bad, hasmukh amathalal
- Why Do You Want to Destroy?, Mantu Mahakul
- Fibonacci: Cosmic Spiral, Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel ..
- Reflection On Life, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Planet Hollywood Birthdays, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Distant Shadows, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Poem of the Day
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Home And Love, Robert William Service
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Heather Burns
Percy Bysshe Shelley