Through the fire of neon leading down the highway to the murmur of jazz I ride the tattered wave The mission handed to me by Kerouac, Ginsberg, Cassidy I feel the road slip by me; I am quicksilver A star of brilliant mercury careening off Down the runway of Nirvana Airlines *Cleared for takeoff, baby, you’re clear!* *Fly, man, fly!* And oh, how I fly - - Away into the limitless purple chalkboard on which the stars are hung, drawn and quartered Nobody sees me as I ascend No late night hipsters glimpse me No last-call barman catches a moment of my light No streetlamp dame bats an eye at me I am but a heroic blur thru the mythical pre-sun chaos Wondering at 90mph if morning will ever come I am as they say gone Boom-Badazoom! And I’m not coming back ‘till I can breathe again - - - - - - - - Somewhere Charlie Parker puts away his saxophone and sighs. Out of gas out of town out of this world out of sight out of my mind I glide to a swanlike halt in the depths of abyssal night And my head, oh my head, my glorious head Once resplendent in and drunk on moonshine Illuminated by the dashboard fact and stoplight philosophies The bottom falls out my head empties like a child’s pail cast away on the sand of the beach Just because. . . . Until all that’s left is the lush darkness of night’s womb
way to ride that beat... loved this, great imagery casting a mesmerizing spell... thanks for sharing it, enjoyed much
