poem filling station gas station 7 11

Filling Station by Elizabeth Bishop

—this little filling station,

oil-soaked, oil-permeated

to a disturbing, over-all

black translucency.

Be careful with that match!

Father wears a dirty,

oil-soaked monkey suit

that cuts him under the arms,

and several quick and saucy

and greasy sons assist him

(it’s a family filling station),

all quite thoroughly dirty.

Do they live in the station?

It has a cement porch

behind the pumps, and on it

a set of crushed and grease-

impregnated wickerwork;

on the wicker sofa

a dirty dog, quite comfy.

Some comic books provide

the only note of color—

of certain color. They lie

upon a big dim doily

draping a taboret

(part of the set), beside

a big hirsute begonia.

Why the extraneous plant?

Why the taboret?

Why, oh why, the doily?

(Embroidered in daisy stitch

with marguerites, I think,

and heavy with gray crochet.)

Somebody embroidered the doily.

Somebody waters the plant,

or oils it, maybe. Somebody

arranges the rows of cans

so that they softly say:

esso—so—so—so

to high-strung automobiles.

Somebody loves us all.

POETRY PROMPT – for this poem I want you to write about being at a gas station (or the gas station shop) or in a 7/1 . I want the poem to describe what the gas station, gas shop or 7/11 is like. What is on the shelving, who is in the store or pumping gas, why are they there, how is the light, what time of day is it? I want your poem to full absorb the surrounding of the location you pick, so the reader feels like they are there with you.

Your poem must have a title. Your poem must between 15 to 20 lines in length, but your line length must be a short – four to six words per line only (like it the example above).

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