A Freestyle Poem Written in the Late 90s to Enjoy
Look at that Pinto
Old paint, new wheels, stopping
Look at that Mercedes bitch
What a snob that lady
She likes that
She digs the attention in a place
where there's absence
Your mind, right?
In the rearview mirror
A girl is looking
Looking good and naked
Wow, what a slutty make up job!
What a sleaze!
I’ll slow down in this locomotive disaster
I want to see her sunflower rapture lush
Oh, my hot rod!
What a rush!
And damn the freeway
can't slow down
This finger flicking, smog inhalant,
lung butter hocking, screaming
Only if Freud was here
That rat bastard killer machine
That monkey torturing loving freak
He would love the freeway
And what does he know about the psyche
The freeway dwellers
Let's play God
let's go to work
So we can make money to burn and pollute.
What a sunset!
A gold-brown synthetic sunset!
Where are the mountains?
I can't see through the rusty sky
Where the gorillas go?
Look there hanging from the concrete jungle
Bleeding and dying those brutes
Why is that girl smiling?
Does she know about the Pinto's breath?
The poor lifeless green
What a mess
My isolation a distress
That mustang and that cougar
They're not the real offspring of nature
Just like the eclipse and the nova
Let's shake it
and roll it
You know God tried.
Damn the freeway!