"From downtown in '75
this one goes out to you..."
the dedication means to medicate,
as the riffs wrap a spliff and
the radio cracks a smile,
"so come-up then get down,"
high-beams scream at the bends
and the drums come back again,
pistons churning an old engine--
no, sticky, lube me up, buttercup,

let's blow the state's line,
five miles wide, then cross it,
like fire up the steam pipes,
rolling on the lady's biway,
hitting routes and dropping signs,
let's leave the quids behind,
we're not stopping tonight,

we can't or we'll die,
but this will help me drive,
fuck these bugs in my eyes,
I would eat them alive, but
how does one eat anything, ever,
or sleep, ever, and why?
Nothing makes sense,
but maybe you can fly--
no, don't, not yet, first
just tell me, who are you,
and "did you hear that?

That one was for you.
that one went out to you,
and you know who you are."
I thought so too.

10/18/2007

Author's Note: Flashback... relapse...

Posted on 10/18/2007
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen