Ocean Park Motel

Streetlights guard the Ocean Park Motel,
A stench of sweat and food mix together,
The vocals of Elvis rock around the place,
As the motorists recharge their batteries.

A loud roar erects from the gang,
A community bounded by drive and resilience,
The kitchen closes, cigars are lit outside,
As they smoke the tobacco in their lungs.

The motors are sleeping,
Not an eye open,
Not a sound to be heard,
Their owners dream of the roads that are yet to come.


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