30

 XXX
I regret many things I've told women
Truth isn't always best for them

Out on that Reservation Road
Of the Nez Perce

Hitch'n for a ride
But everyone pass'n


A rickity car pulled to the side
Inside I look at the driver's side to see

Daisy Duke & Blonde
As redneck as can be

‘ You are the prettiest person
‘ To ever pick me up
I add to my thank you


~ Oh your boyfriend
~ Just broke up with you
~ You shouldn't pick up at 17
~ Just drop me off

She took me up a mountain top
To leave me stranded

While she went home
To ask her parents
‘ if I can keep you


She picked me up a while later
As I walk'd down
Her mother in the front seat

‘ My mom was okay with it
‘ But my dad
‘ Didn't like the idea

Always look before you get in
.
.
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In my youth my temper
Burn'd untemper'd

The Anarchist Cookbook
One of the best reads

The Tennis Ball Bomb
The only recipe
That performed remarkably

It lay on my shelf
Untested for weeks

Until my temper burn'd
Thru all sanity

Grab'n & Throw'n Blindly
I launched the bomb

For a time
I stared at it enamor'd

Despite its deep position'n
In the closet

The match-heads burst out
In healthy flow
Land'n & stay'n lit

Every single of the thousand
Match-heads ejected

My entire world
A layer of flame

Bathroom Bedroom
Closet Kitchen & Rec-Room
.
.
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13 & Cross'n
That West Side gang park

The one with the concrete table
That looked as the ones of stone in my books

Past midnight
Alone & Ready
To bolt at any shadow

But it was car lights
That turn'd on behind me
Parked tuck'd away
It slowly follow'd me
Down the street

Then at the sudden
Burst in a lurch at me
& Past me

Fkn cop had a good laugh
He drove off with his joke
For the day
.
.
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