You were a long drive
Along an empty highway
Through Boise, Idaho
At a quarter after 10;
Cool night air flowing in,
Rock music flowing out.
You were coming home tonight
But you’re not coming home tonight.
You are the noisy lily-pond
As stars sing out goodnight.
Long drive rolling home.
Tag: highway
Delicate as Love (day 1474)
Overnight, on a highway:
It’s a crystal castle,
Delicate as love
On a midnight escapade
Down a busy London street.
Thump thump
Is my heart,
My radio telling me without words,
Traffic hazard lights
On a steep incline.
I’m not bad,
I’m just dry as a desert rose,
Hot as an exposed armadillo,
Wandering like two lone buffalo,
Not much to say,
Lonely to the very hooves I stomp,
Dust and hunters hunting.
Ashram Day 19 (day 1422)
Morning, morning,
My lovely morning.
Awake with sun
Feet on the run.
Heading highway,
Cause my way
Is gonna be my way.
Lovin easy waves,
Sandy waves,
Easy waves.
Sandy days.
A Hazy Memory (day 1304)
Whispering as the highway rolled on
Curling around giant pillars
To big to divert.
Azur shades reflected memories
That hazed along waves of transilluminescence.
Small shapes far off in the distance
Brought imagination to present
That click-clocked believable thought.
Dusty blankets draped loosely
Over tall shoulders held proud,
Warm tea wafting around the room.
And an old dusty broom
Leaned lifelessly up against the
Wire mesh make-shift windows.
Americana Red, White and Blue (day 1166)
Star fucked the highway,
Americana is my name;
Revolution is a pocket
Carries forever remains.
You with your big chalk talk
Playing taxi in cris-crossed musings
Like an off duty ticket master;
An expired joke
With an obscene ending
That dates your sense of amusement
To about nineteen fifty but-fuck no-where.
And this skull tattoo’d late night stalker
Has a skid mark diagonal to your
Latest amusement,
Which lights up the night life
Red, white and blue.
Left Shoes (day 1091)
She’s backstage
And I’ve been driving,
Reckless I know by name.
Shaking as high school.
And I’m a virgin.
Wet dick and anticipating
Romance full of pretending,
Two eyes on a 4:45 am highway.
Nerves and highway straits.
Tight and
Six low balls
Running circles ’round my
Jitter-bug baloos.
Scutter-bug blues.
Ain’t singing sister shows
Nothing wrong with going solo.
Motown and their twisting tu-tus.
And I’m in a stinky ward,
And the girls round here like digging.
And I got a girl who’s a dig.
What Is (day 390)
I am not a wanderer
I am a traveler
I am a hand in the air
I am a stone in your path
I am a walking stick
I am a familiar scent
I am a highway song
I am a journey long
I am a worn shoe
I am a singletrack
I am a favorite song
I am a warm jacket
How does it feel?
Speeding (day 232)
The path exploding like a double shift into 5th
Loosely cannon-balling down the empty highway
Wreaking havoc upon the simple things
But only little longer
Nothing ever stays as it should with gas prices so high
