Thursday, June 30, 2011

I don't care anymore, this is my life

Who'd ever heard a'
gas station turnpike New
Jersey swamps? Driver AWOL and
no ones got the balls to step up and drive
this sonuvabitch double decker blue beauty
PA bound over quotable Ben Franklin
& his darling bridge (also blue)-- My
murky brown-green waters like jewelry
in the sun, crackle hiss miss
in golden summer rays rays, this
must be the road the gators take
to New York sewers circa 1888 on
weekend vacations from Florida
tired a' golfers lost their 80 dollar
Topflite balls and go divin' clear
everglade water hazard arms dun
been bit right off "Oh, holy shit Christ!"
the government'll reattach it, or watch ya
die, just mark off your sosh, three-two-four
it's what ties us to those great heroes
of American pasts, Oh, and the income tax, too

Now let's get this bus a' rollin' south mama so's
I can ice this knee Broadway tired
and Broad Street stoned;

We're alone on Bus little sailboat, sailing down
only you and me, we're floating home
or away from home or whatever home is
anyways, and where we're going?
I don't know...

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