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the man in the starry tie led me talking backwards across the waving chips i spoke fantastic, like a prophet like a piece of blood where no doors are and weary now i set upon the good year and the wrench wrenching out of me every ready of light that i might get it right and walk away into the metro sunset the golden metro may and now across the plains take your child the highway sign, banana trees, windows parted and hoping see the flat faced delicatessen sweeping up the afternoon pick up little pieces of meetings and on your way here is the donut shop here is the early morning light where i would drool in chlorine yes here is the early early mornings i spent training and here is the highway chasing `j`s` out on his empty skin looking for license plates and liquor stores over there is new mexico and down there is corpus you can find my mother and me wrapped up in a warm scotch on the rocks the numbing ice of each others eyes looking just like now for relief there is no direction but past every thing else is passive but if you would seek me seek me there in a field or a gas station in my american mothers arms before she is too medicated to remember how to say my name say it gently, just once more for me mother with the sounds of trucks and distant trains with the gold sticks and the burnt skin of prayer bathe me once again in hot oil silence and long, long days car keys and dash board lights bears in the garbage that sweet honeycomb of memory don`t weave the web too tight don`t catch me tonight speak to me in cool lines the steering wheels turning where ever we go dinner approaches the fire light of high beam and lipstick laughing the red midwest her curled curtains wild and a strand of me stuck in her mouth wet always an outsider to the cities i create the entire east comes upon me and i reeling in stars grip the wheel a good girl, really just don`t know how to stop this thing
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