Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Friday, April 17, 2009

while the triple sixers lassos keep angels roped in tha basement

the sun so hot yesterdays blinded us to euphoria
today, gray as duct tape,
rain slaked our thirst for plain
the highway sleeted on by debris
we counted change on gas station cashier counters that'd soon become our home.
we flipped those coins to what'd be the first building to fall in rome.
life at the moment
stuck on fibers
building rubble reminders and shiny steel knee-scrapers.
rabble rabble. down went the tower of babel.
eat highways, drink black velvet,
tattoo yr digital age obsessions somewhere else kid.
this is life at the momentstuck on the fibers
this is role with the briggity-breaks,
crush grooved beneath treads of tires.
we are just porno huts alongside a truckers highway passing foestus missouri big ups foestus!!!)
we are just their business cards with a girl named starla tits hanging outof her latex yellow bathing suit,
thrown half knowingly out long windows like tailpipes left in the breakdown lane on 70.
where mark twain was born, you can look at a log cab and feel the sham of history, like dill pickles preserved150 years too long. in mark twain's name there is a hood in the heart of st. louis with 'we buy junk car' signs stuck on every other electrical box,
where cars stare like business guys with angry brows and cheap expensive looking sunglasses as opposed to yesterdays white diamonds of night.
they selling pimpjuice by the box but it don't seem to be doing shit.
our airforceones have officially been hijacked.
so we move in
that when you no longer jiggle with the rhythmshake to thabreaks to that break of dawn bump and on and on
you just pack your shit into a car and move.
to the break of dawn to the chasing of daylight
to the everlovin break of dawn.
in that i rocked till the break of dawn so hard that dawn broke me
with a backpack fullof krylons and head full of dope beats,
shit B, it been rainin here for weeks,
but clap like a congregation as the sun rises to her feet.
and burn past like a hand-rolled cigeratte
dry kindling to a burnt lung
and move, move st. louis
move on,
move like a motherfucker caught jaywalking at a bad time,
I am going too fast for you get out of my way
just movethe fuck over.
i travel so far so fast sitting here.

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