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last chance texaco |
| 2002-09-22 : 2:13 a.m...blacktop |
| the line forms to the left, in the cold, in the darkened driveways of middle class middle America, suburbia is the new Valhalla, where weekend warriors go to barbecue, and die, just over the bridge spanning the generation gap, playing basketball by the floodlights after a humid summer rain, alone for miles, every direction is asleep, and the echo with each dribble-dribble is an h-bomb, bouncing me back out of here, home is not a word here, working to relax, labor day weekend picnics, “kiss the cook” and docile hausfrau serving cocktail weenies, drinks with umbrellas, but the rain’s not coming from above, and the laughing children tamed by arched eyebrows and because-I-said-so’s, taste-testing the readiness of that pound of flesh with a razor-toothed smile, the stepford subdivision, aluminum siding and landscaping—stay the hell away from here, stay away from me—your hurry-up-and-wait way of life, recognize this, take a good look motherfucker, the American way is a cul-de-sac |