Drive-Thru | Six Piece McNugget Meal
1.
At the drive-thru window, the little french doors open
revealing the clerk who has only been, until that moment,
a tinny voice, but now she is as real as the Wizard of Oz,
and as powerful, too: she takes my plastic, turns it into a sack
of burgers and fries, produces small tubs of ketchup
from the ether below the counter. Magic.
2.
Driving from Louisville to Little Rock.
I pull off the interstate and into a drive-thru,
planning to eat on the go, keep making time.
Time being the tool we use to measure change.
Time being what none of us has enough of.
In the drive-thru lane, time slows to a crawl.
3.
In the McDonald’s drive-thru you can smell the fries
though you’re three cars from the window,
stuck in line, unable to back up or pull out.
Of course, the guy in front has ordered for six.
Of course, when it’s your turn they’re out of fresh fries.
The clerk insists you pull forward, wait in drive-thru limbo.
4.
The smell of fries takes me back to my late sister
saying she wanted to have her ashes scattered
in her favorite places, like the ocean, and Abbey Road.
To which her young son, having given it thought, exclaimed
“And the McDonald’s drive-thru,” to which we three laughed,
even though each of us was dying, some quicker than others.
5.
Being stuck in the drive-thru line, you catch a glimpse
of the person in front of you in their side mirror,
can feel the heat of impatience rising off their face.
Naturally, the guy in the car after yours is watching you
scratch your nose and sing along to Manic Monday,
mirrored faces all the way back in an unbroken chain.
6.
My mother wanted a Diet Coke and after the news
she’d just gotten at the doctor’s, I thought, why not,
and pulled into the drive-thru.
Way back, people would call on the apothecary
for a little something-something
to quicken the inevitable. She picks a slow poison.
The Toy
My daughter wants a Frosty rather than the fruit cup.
My wife insists on fruit but I’m the one driving this car
so I tell the speaker Frosty, no fruit cup.
Now, one of us is happy. One is angry.
One is thinking life is short,
get the damn ice cream.
9 thoughts on "Drive-Thru | Six Piece McNugget Meal"
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I appreciate how this poem takes one place and fashions such different lenses to view it. The way you bring everything together at the end is breathtaking, Bill. I especially love this:
“4.
The smell of fries takes me back to my late sister
saying she wanted to have her ashes scattered
in her favorite places, like the ocean, and Abbey Road.
To which her young son, having given it thought, exclaimed
“And the McDonald’s drive-thru,” to which we three laughed,
even though each of us was dying, some quicker than others.”
The memory, the heartache, and the humor of the child’s quick suggestion work wonderfully.
I am really enjoying your poems this month.
Two lines that just stopped me heart.
“mirrored faces all the way back in an unbroken chain.”
“Time being the tool we use to measure change.”
Bill this is staggeringly good. The stitched and the woven. The voice.
Thee structure you built around it.
Yeah.!
Who can write a great poem about Mcnuggets at the Drive-Thru? Friggin’ Bill Brymer!
And here I thought drive-thru people had their schedules calibrated to the second
What Linda said. Unerringly you find the depth and the drama in the mundane.
You write powerful poetry, and I always enjoy them, but this is next level. It is astonishing how you put us in the space with you and make us feel what you feel.
Glad to see a poem about a drive thru! Great capture of the thoughts that run through a mind while navigating the line.
McDonald’s Meditation, yes? “Time being the tool we use to measure change./Time being what none of us has enough of./In the drive-thru lane, time slows to a crawl.”
So many great scenes laced with the scent of the BEST fries in the world (McDonald’s).
Especially poignant is 4…love the humor admidst the loss.
I will never view drive-thrus the same again! What is it about the lure of french fries?
Always take the ice cream!!
I love your entire road trip experience. It sounds like family.