Parking Spot Lines

The poem that spoke to me was a poem called: “Kid, these are train tracks” by Jeffrey Bean. First of all my thought process in choosing this was to go on poets.org and then I looked up Michigan poets for some unknown reason. Then, I saw Jeffrey Bean and said: “yes.” 
This is said poem: Kid, these are train tracks

After reading this poem by him, it immediately reminded me of random nights hanging out with friends, but at the same time, it reminds me of those nights on vacation where I was alone outside at night and just let myself be with my thoughts. <<not me lol

I also just went on a random road trip with my friends where we drove for three hours each way on a whim and explored Grand Rapids and Grand Haven. This same sentiment of just exploring the world and being a teenager I feel is also shared in Bean's poem (although for the record I don't drink or smoke like in the poem).

>> me on said trip. It got crazyyyy at 1pm

The thing I love about Bean’s poem is his use of couplets in his structure, yet they are not separations of ideas or phrases. Almost all of them have enjambments and continue the thought to the next line. I had a hard time imitating his style becuause I love to use puncuation at the end of lines, but I found that if I wrote it with ceasuras and went back and pressed enter at random spots it worked out.

The idea that I want to create utilizing Bean’s style came to me when I had just parked at work. I just left my car and thought “parking spot lines.” I had no idea why I thought it was such a cool idea, but throughout my shift I kept thinking of them as something seemingly insignificant, yet I knew there was something more I wanted to express about them. I couldn’t point my finger on it, so I tried to illustrate my thought-process in this poem inspired by Jeffrey Bean: (p.s. enjoy this awkward photo of me in the car that I sent to my parents to let them know I made it safely)

Kid, these are parking spot lines,

they will always be there.

Sometimes yellow lines, sometimes 

white lines. At concerts, you may

not see them at all. You 

might see your favorite car,

or one that reminds you

of someone you know. I always find one.

Oh, the things you can do, like rush out

and hear the slam of the door behind you,

or sit and reluctantly leave at

the last second so you don’t feel 

the chill of winter air

battling with the warmth of the car.

On the not-so-good days, crying may 

also be an option in

those lines, taking in the silence

before the chime of your phone rings.

Unlike me, you will have enough time

set aside, the best music in the queue,

ready for the next

adventure. Look around. 

These lines helped people store

their valuable car away 

and it will be waiting

in those lines when they return.

But if you see older kids crossing those lines

and panic settles in your chest,

remind yourself, they aren’t paying attention 

to you. So–

open that door and

exude confidence

stop a few times to find 

curious things. Maybe

look at the sky, or

find all the hues you can think of.

Go follow the side-trail,

the one all the way down there,

I can’t say what you will find, but

neither can your car

Because kid, these are just

Parking spot lines.