blue station wagon ...

blue station wagon ... i'm driving around in the blue station wagon ... driving around and around and around i been here and i been there seems like i been  just about everywhere and still i ends up here here in the same old place out down the 88 past the motel flops past the pee-by-the-willow-tree  tip-toe hops past the scenic view points and the sloppy-joe  pick-up joints past the weigh-stations of the cross where long-haul truckers sleep between profit and loss  past the roadside coffeeshops and the fat cowboy cops looking for pussy to munch or gays to punch  far past the endless fields of frozen crops and burnt out Christmas tree tops until like a full-blown heart attack everything stops  you know the place i'm sure most people simply call it nowhere ... i'm driving around in the blue station wagon ... driving around and around and around listening to the worst of K-LITE music seeping like Amish honey from the radio and here i am humming mindlessly along trying to remember the words to some faraway song words that once were like a storyline underscoring a photo album of a true love found and a passion bound to last until the sudden crackle  of highway static shreds the moment  into cross-cut fragments  of melancholy thoughts scattering like confetti out the back window  and all i can think of is that something in me has stalled or faltered or clogged all i can think of is that something must be wrong so very very wrong but i can't put my finger on it can't say exactly what that something something is ... i'm driving around in the blue station wagon ... driving around and around and around all alone once again except for the memories i got packed in a steamer trunk clattering around  like a corpse  trying to thrash through the quagmire of denial and find some way back to life only to discover that ending is not mending and torn denim beliefs  get so full of holes there ain't no one can stitch  them together again but hey no sense crying no sense trying to blow the morning fog away and so i roll on knowing i been alone before been alone most of the time been too much of a dreamer too much a drifter living in restless boots shoe shined by one escape after another ... i'm driving around in the blue station wagon ... driving around and around and around i was sure someone called "Shotgun" but never showed up or at least not in time before i started out 'cause when you gotta go you gotta go or they'll find you just sitting and idling away your time inhaling the carbon monoxide fumes creeping like invisible fingers from the rotted out floorboards and some will surely wonder which is better before or after life or death but what they don't get is that sometimes you can't tell which from which you know sometimes you don't know left from right or up from down only thing for sure is that sometimes things last a little too long ... i'm driving around in the blue station wagon ... driving around and around and around i needs me a woman with a hard-luck story and courage in her soul a woman who can fly me over that valley in the 23rd psalm a woman who is better at using her head than she is at giving it a woman with strong hands stained with ink and calloused with colour hands that can lift  the furniture of sorrow and redecorate even the darkest mood a woman who will lay her fingertips over these tired old eyes and lull me to sleep with gentle caresses lull me into the dreams of a younger man with nothing but hope in his pocket and a clear mind  that guesses there's a future beyond the next turn in the road and time to fill beyond the next five minutes a woman who carries me on before the night crumbles into dusty regrets and the morning comes to find me forever gone ... Copyright © Kennedy James, 2013. All rights reserved.