Highway 61 Paved Over

It’s been so long since I’ve had a life
Apparently, I couldn’t keep a wife
Nor was I much of a father
The scars define my relationship with my daughter
And now this morning I contemplate supper with my sister
Wondering if I can even suck spaghetti with her
Hoping for that scene from Lady and the Tramp
Praying for a different kind of tramp stamp

Knowing that in just one day
I’ll be far, far away
Then of course I think about autumn
Why does moving forward involve rock bottom?
That’s how I see my voyage to your land
You won’t take my hand

So I wander the Negev on my rusty roan
Like a rolling stone
A complete unknown
With no direction home
No, I can’t tell you how it feels
With a heart shocked, crushed, and eaten by eels
Unable to remember the face of the dog they call Sloan
Always on my own

Clutching a plane ticket to your nation
My entire life lived in a way station
Another spot on the way
Day after day
Exhausted by this and that divine machination
Drowning in the sand of your land
Holding out my hand

There is no sign of yours
You’re too busy locking doors
And blocking boors
Who look to you like ravenous boars
Because you don’t know the sound a dead man makes when he snores
While everyone is chugging Coors
And fucking whores
And doing whatever else my king deplores
Seeing my day, and wondering about yours
While carrying water and chopping wood
Among other chores
Learning why we call Jesus good
Something I’ve long understood
Because I’m the guy who knows what’s under the hood

A unique skill
That doesn’t help with all the ill will
That I constantly accrue
Because instead of thinking of the woman who loves me
I think about you
Because you’re entirely too lovely
Above me

These words accompany the second-to-last chapter
Because when you read it, you’ll wonder what I’m after
And you might not see
That I want smiles and laughter
Between you and me
So I can cross sea after sea
And accomplish the mission that God meant to be
All giddy and happy
Smiling and sappy
That’s what you’d do for me
If you’d call
The biggest acts of kindness are usually quite small
Just looking into the eyes
Of the girl blonde and tall
Would be my all

It’s almost fall

The idiot is almost wise
I’m almost wearing britches my size
I’m almost ready
If you’d only hold me steady
You’re made for me
And I’m made for you
But hearing this will give you no idea what to do
Because the hidden meaning of it hasn’t occurred to you
And I have much explaining to do
And that would require dialog
Between a Nordic beauty and a formerly psychotic ideologue
Prone to strange behavior
Connected to lessons from his savior
So do you think we can hash this out later?

Leave a Reply