Monday, April 4, 2022

60 Down Woodward

White knuckle drivin’

On a bald tire

With no heat

I’ve always tried to be

Cold blooded

Goin’ sixty down

Woodward

In the parts that don’t

Take kindly to my 

“Hippie Chick”

Bumper sticker

208 warbles on the busted

Tape deck

Shakin’ the broken mirrors

And rattlin’ the fogged plexiglass

But the noise makes my head

Feel at home

No time to look behind me

Keep on truckin’

Got my chips cashed in

Call me the doo-dah man

A man that exudes comfort

What’s wrong with wantin’ to feel good

All the

Fuckin’

Time

Spark a spliff

Out drive the gas leak

It’s over four bucks a gallon

I’d get more bang for my buck

With a fuckin’

Eight ball

These days

Probably better mileage too

Lettin’ your heart hurt more and more

Each day

Is less painful than

Your wallet

Let the suspension rust

Crack under the pressure

Of potholes in the road

And pot burnin’ holes in your

Brain

Turnin’ memories into

Minefields

The nostalgic crunch of metal

Wakes you up at the wheel

The noise blends comfortingly with

The noise in your head

The potholes hit like home

As soon as you hit south

Of Eight Mile

Comin’ home at three

In the goddamn mornin’

Railed on flat Red Bull

And Adderall

Feel the skin tighten

Around your face

Tinglin’ with dehydration

Swervin’ down the freeway

Side swipe the rumble strip

Drunken side swipes on Tinder

Too afraid to DM girls

I think I vaguely know

Too afraid to say

“I’m just lookin’ for someone to talk to”

As if the internet can somehow

Fill the void

Isolating us from the inside out

But do I wanna go back down that road?

Ten hours spent

Crunchin’ bone marrow into dust

Turn life to powder

Tendin’ bar for a buncha

Entitled brats

That have never heard how

To

Insure

Proper

Service

Just cause it gives me enough money for rent

And the pills that help me keep

My gorgeous figure

Seventy five

The long and winding road

You know like the back of your

Cracking hands

Jaques Brel covers

On the AM

Let the car veer on the curve

Let the potholes turn your brain

To the one way

Dead end

Oncoming

Impending doom

Of the void

Let the hole swallow your axle

Let your thoughts swerve

Intrusively

Take me home to loneliness

To emptiness

To a haunted house

I’ll never find my way

Out of

But at least the void

Has the comfort

Of home

Here

I am alone

With no expectations

To even exist

And no one to disappoint

But myself