Trucks with Rocks

It’s simply a situation,
is what it is. I just don’t know
what to make of it. I mean, who cares
about big trucks with rocks anyway?
You know the ones.

I’ve sat here for three days, waiting:
drinking coffee & coughing, and counting
cars passing, yet still the big trucks
with rocks don’t pass by.

Maybe, just maybe, the stone cutter’s
sick and the graveyard’s full, or no one’s died
and they don’t need rocks. And if that’s
not it, then maybe someone’s
flattened their tire?
I don’t care.


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