TROCADERO
I wanted that to be
mine, an old car, it
was named, called ,
a Trocadero, I think;
It had a ringtone like a
hammer, and went 204
miles per hour, sitting
still, cruising, it felt
like. I drove one once,
just once, all the way
down, I went, to Trenton
and back. I took old Route
One, where it separates
down there at Lawrence
or wherever that is. The old
road, it says, runs through
road, it says, runs through
a business district, but it's
not really, just a string of
roadside stores, like plazas,
where you've got to have a
car to park; well, know what
I mean? Of course you've
got to have a car to park,
otherwise you wouldn't be
parking. I guess I meant
you've got to have a car
to get there. To park? No
that doesn't work either.
The hell with it, don't go
Man I hate the precision
that language sometimes
call for.
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