IF GUS TURNS
INTO TUCKERTON
If that ever happens then I'm headed
home - fifteen motorcycles later, and
too drunk to boot. Can't ride when you
can only slide. Anyway, all these jerks
are flying flags on their motorcycles like
they're twelve freaking years old. Ooow!
I guess it's in case they get lost and end
up in France. By the twist of a throttle
the gim-crackery of the bottle takes
over any good sense. I'm drinking
hard but I used to ride harder.
If Gus turns into Tuckerton,
I'm done.
No comments:
Post a Comment