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I was twenty, my last summer working at Patty’s Charcoal Drive-In, senior year in college coming up, and what on earth was I going to do next? I made seventy-five cents an hour, plus tips. All those shiny quarters. Some went down the throat of the jukebox—96 Tears, What Becomes of the Brokenhearted, Reach Out / I’ll Be There. Most of them went to pay for my education, something my grandchildren will never understand, but still possible in the late sixties. What my father, child of immigrants, didn’t understand was why I didn’t get a job after high school—I was a girl, after all, who did I think I was? Who cared if I was second in my class, honors and advance placements, aced my Regents exams? At least I didn’t have to worry about the jungles of southeast Asia, like the boys in my class. But what was I going to do with this degree in English Literature and Art History? I was tired of waiting on cars full of boys going nowhere, catching that Last Train to Clarksville. The Stones were singing Paint it Black, and California Dreamin’ seemed as impossible as going to the moon. I was terrified that my father was right, and some endless office job was on the horizon: alphabetizing, filing; touch typing and steno skills, was that all I was good for? This empty parking lot, burger wrappers rattling the edges in the sticky August wind. The world already shifting, but none of us knew it yet.
From Slow Wreckage by Barbara Crooker (Grayson, 2024). Included in Vox Populi by permission of the author.
Barbara Crooker is the author of twelve chapbooks and ten full-length books of poetry. Her many awards include the WB Yeats Society of New York Award, the Thomas Merton Poetry of the Sacred Award, and three Pennsylvania Council fellowships in literature.

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Love it
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For me a new discovery, one filled with relatable nostalgia. Thanks
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Thanks so much!
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Really enjoyed this and nice to meet a poet I didn’t know.
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Thanks, Deborah. I’ve been a fan of Barbara’s work for years. I’m glad you like it.
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Thanks so much!
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Oh Deborah, google her or check previous Vox Populi posts. You are in for a treat
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I remember. Thank you.
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Thanks!
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A new discovery for me! Thank you Michel.
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I love Barbara Crooker’s poems. Glad you like them too.
>
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Actually, a new one, Robbi. I revisited old material in prose poem form. . . .
Thanks, Laure-Anne! I’m a big fan of your work, too!
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An old favorite.
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Always wonderful Barbara!
Thankyou
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Thanks, Sean!
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