O bane of my existence
paragon of the superfluous
apotheosis of the banal
even the denizens of Scranton
look at you and laugh in derision
you should not even exist
and yet, somehow
you are here Breezewood, PA.
by what means or method
I am not sure how you escaped
being demolished by the great Ike's
interstate highway system
that united our disjointed states
and cities to one another
but through pluck or cabal
you have survived
there is certainly no logical reason
why 70 North should not merge
seamlessly into the Pennsylvania Turnpike
but no
like the ancient robber barons
extorting tolls along the Rhine
travelers must bend through your roads
stop at your antipodal stop lights
and weave through semi trucks and
wayward Canadian tourists
while continuing on their journey
to their intended destination
(aka - someplace they actually want to go to)
Nay, Breezewood
bastard spawn of Cerberus and Medusa
I shall not patronize your Denny's, KFC, Starbucks
or your Family House restaurant and gift shop
nor shall I stop at your Sheetz
even if my gas warning light is set aflame
I will not be tempted by the Siren calls
of the Vista Spa
even if it is open 7 days a week
Nay, Breezewood
I shall not concede
I shall not be broken
I will pass through your streets
with aplomb mind and dexterous vigor
and pray to the gods
that some just and mighty cyclone
will come upon you some day
where you will be laid to waste
and your dead carcass will be
covered over with concrete and asphalt
and when that day comes
I will drive over you
with a wry smile upon my visage read more