February 25, 1974 (I was 29)
Buying gas in Pleasanton
In the gas line
45th in line
parked illegally
on the highway
trucks blow past
indignation
An improbable farmer on a tractor
in an improbable field grows smaller then
larger
his slow tractor turns the long rows of dirt
The station man walks up the line with his NO
GAS sign
An executioner
Who will be cut?
He walks past
Gulls waver in waves above the tractor
then drop into the broken swells
Fume tainted haze is the new morning mist
Line of car starter
firing like salutes
Policeman over a megaphone from his car
tries to clear a lane
The sun lifts the morning sky
The station man shuffles two lines into one
as diplomatically as Kissinger
then sprints smiling
to the ringing phone in his service island home
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