Driving and singing through the Rained-on night, tossing miles away With lightening speed Thundering and gay with promises. I didn’t see at first, but there you were Together. Torn inside out and dead with rage I birthed a cunning plot. Pock-marked and coffin nailed It scythed across my maliced cheeks. I stayed there frozen to the icy metal in my mind. The streets were black and finger wet With all those boring tears. At last it let me go; I see how I was sickened with it. I’m on the road again now, flying over bean fields Winding over the edges. A half a tank of gas A glove compartment map A fishbowl full of matchbook covers
