That Funny Road Again

THAT FUNNY ROAD AGAIN


I'm alone in my bed today,
tickle the throttle and pull on the choke.
Kick it through--
Kick it through--
Noon? One o'clock? I don't even care.
In a dreadful moment, long as an eon,
I reach up and switch on the key.
I didn't sleep well
without her there
gone into the wind for the highway again
in a peel of thunder and swarming like bees.
I think I'll just lay here all day
as white lines, blind, go into the sun, whose
wheels are rollin' and stirrin' the breeze.
The birds high-tail and the crowds careen...
my soul... reeling in the aftershock;
many motorcycles pour over a hill
like fire ants to attack the weak
of the nine-point-five I have to survive
that has taken me by suprise.
"Head south!" Said the west,
speaking from his eastern face.
Northern star has long been the guide
for V-Twin sound in my harmony song;
this bed is far too large.
Keep on--
Keepin' on!
For one so small as I
a heart may be unbroken
having, even though,
no particular place to go.