THE LAW HAS A RINGER
FOR OPEN-FACE SKYWAYS
And I am merchant from Hell passing through,
riding that ring-road around Avenue E, tossing
out candy bars to all whom I see. Just small things,
Hershey this or that, some sort of Mars Bar, and
those little dark chocolate things covered with
white sprinkles. Larger than a quarter, but that's
about it. Smaller than a dime, it wouldn't count
for shit - even bankers have their limits and
the coin-drop just spits it back. What's a mother
to do? Here's the jacket of blue-blood leather
I used to ride in, motorcycles from every nether
direction, uphills and downhills, they were all
mine. The highway is for gamblers, better use
you sense? Take what you have gotten from
coincidence? Holy God I've heard all that
before : we were swinging singles throwing
signs in an alleyway somewhere in London
town; you tossed your cookies, and it got all
over your suede jacket. You know what? We
were always so drunk it stayed like that for
days. Never mind the alphabet, where'd
you put the keys? Nobody noticed,
because nobody sees.
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