Hitchhiker by Joe Albanese


Joe Albanese

I sit in a parked car,
a rolling stone in a movement ceased
I laughed, I coughed, I screamed
at what we really need in the lives we lease

Just shoes and the next road
I think I smoked what the homeless dream
A have in loss, it seems
a run away to some, to others a sip of tea

I’m tired for just a seed
A burning home is just a redesign
There’s a million miles of me —
an out of time, a feelin’ fine

I couldn’t count the scars
To travel the world is to traverse your fears
I hitchhike through those seas:
a stormy when, a never be

My thumb out on the street
but no one answers that sotto plea
More coffee and some cream
So much to do, more than we see.

About the Author

Joe Albanese is a writer from South Jersey. Recently he graduated from Rowan University where he majored in Law and Justice. Hopefully that degree will not go to waste as moving forward Joe will focus on writing crime fiction while still writing poetry. His work can be found in 2017 issues of Burningword Literary JournalCalliopeKansas City VoicesSteel Toe Review, and other publications.