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needles needling needlessly with little thread... or much of anything else...

(foolish dribbles to be written at uncertain times, on an irregular basis, from uncertain sections of the ever expending universe, and from whatever dimension I-We-Us-Them might find ourselves/ myself in …)

Monday, May 16, 2005

ANGELS ON THE ROAD 


Eighty miles from nowhere
is the road going through the land
cutting it
spiking it along it’s way with barbwire fencing
and electric posts
on and on going towards Mexico.

Flat lands
and mildly hilly rolls of hot sun-baked mesquite trees.

Seventy miles an hour
in my little automobile
overheating
me watching the red needle
as much as the road
and the vultures eating carcasses
all along
so full from dead meat
they can’t lift off no more
and I have to slow down
not to save their ass
but mine and my passenger.

I’d hate to get one of those birds
those big ol’ birds of death
slammed into my windshield
at 70 miles an hour
as it tried to fly off from some dead deer
or armadillo
knocking us out and putting us down
eighty miles from nowhere
on the way to the Mexican border.
Posted by: François Pointeau / 21:36
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