Tilbury Town

I went down to Tilbury Town

looking for Poetry

I heard she used to work at the fish factory

But it had been awhile since she’d been seen

I fancied myself a new age Don Quixote 

My Rocinante an old Barracuda 

with an ashtray (and a potato for gas cap)

And that’s what got me in trouble

They stopped us at the ferry dock

You cannot board like that! 

(they hadn’t noticed on the way over)

You’ll have to find a gas cap

And that was that

I could not cross over the wine dark sea

to continue my search for Poetry

I’m in exile now in Tilbury Town

 And Poetry is not around

Sancho and I are parked at a garage

where we  wait 

until a new gas cap arrives

Maybe Tuesday

                                                      ~ to be continued

                                                  

Day 18 prompt: write a section of a dramatic narrative poem

Note: I had my mind set on something with a happy ending and not too  strenuous. My apologies to Edwin A. Robinson. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edwin-arlington-robinson