Pieces of Being
The Drive
We drove
up a road we couldn’t see
Above,
a shadow was scattered with crystals
Our
favorite ones we tried to follow
We wanted
to touch them,
but
learned the only thing that mattered were the seconds we stayed in motion.
Single Traffic Light Autumn Gypsy Baby
Hammer pants and tight white lace
Grab the melodica and join the band
Low thin brow, star shaped tone
Groove your bones with that banjo
A wooden spoon and a pink lagoon
Churning Chinese dreads & dragon snacks.
Purple rays painted parakeets that day
While Tahoe scooped redwood snow
Recycled moonshine love screamed, “You don’t Know!”
I told em’ if you’re in it you got to let her know.
But Sydney dreamed of mud-dripped men
Selling mustached aprons and green vacations
Hairs for strings and nails for pluckin’
Wild horses beat for songs worth sufferin’
Plaid buttons proved that raindrops drift,
Two spheres that burned the black out quick
A heated pig paced the dusty grey
And spoke in tounges of marmalade
15 more through the rear bus door
Frayed overhauls and nothing more
When the rain went dry the earth made waves
And crust beneath the moon gave way
But the river flows and the mountains rise
And the Aussie chants, “til the day we die!”
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