Billy The Kid

Stayed in a town named
Truth Or Consequences
Stood on a hill made of lava in
New Mexico
Walked through the red mud of
Lincoln County
where
Billy The kid
lived and died
Looked into the sky of
Roswell
And watched pantie lines
alive and well
as I dined.

Good Ol' Boys

Crossing the Line

At twelve years of age, she was constantly running for the Mexican border to do the things bad girls would do. For the next four years she found herself dancing and offering herself to the night of Mexican lust.

It was the day she was being released. They had tried her as an adult. He wore fat pants that hung low as did all the boys his age, he thought himself a gangsta. Just shit in a trailer park with a strong tempered dog.

He had the day planned, she'd be getting out at around 2:00pm, plenty of time to walk the mutt, beat off and shower. The masturbation was so he'd last longer with her.

She came out at 2:15 looking frail and a tad thinner than the day she had been incarcerated. Her blond hair resembled dry straw and her demeanor was slight and shy.

He had left the music playing loud to impress her upon their return. He was full of himself, pumped on speed and images in the mirror. His ripped stomach cast shadow on the sanded driveway. The dog had been left in the trailer drooling on the lino floor stinking the place up.

She was proud and impressed at the same time. She had never had a strong man in her life and this punk represented manhood.

He had bought hair dye and convinced her that she would be stronger as a brunette. She believed in her boyfriend who indirectly placed her in confinement.

Tuscon

I've seen you around
Yah I get around, he says
Not like you've slept with everyone around, she says
Yah, I've slept around
but I'm not like a male whore or anything.
I had a friend who was one, she says
stumbling off the cracked sidewalk.
And with that
he led them into the night
passing shadows
as he
draped his languid arm
across the blade of her shoulder.
That was the first and last
the homeless boy saw of them.
He was occupied
holding onto the tether of the
two dogs
as they scratched and pulled at
the length of their rope.
The other one had gone for water
and had left him
in charge of the dogs.
A young woman
in a short sunset yellow orange dress
unbuckled herself
from the restraints of her seatbelt.
The drivers door ajar
the homeless boy
peered into the Jeep
to witness the
rise of her skirt.

On The Go

Feb 8th
Lets start with 1.75L or rum for $17
That's the shit

A direct hit before Cranbrook
rock meets windscreen.
Deer Lodge @5:45
Amber Bock, taste great.
Really fucking cold here
Free soft porn on the TV

Feb 9th
Lucinda rolls out off
cold Montana leaving behind
the confines of the
Old State Prison
dating back to the 19th century

Roll through the low cloud and snow glazed hillsides
of Idaho

West along the 84 to Twin Falls
where Evil K. attempted to jump the
Snake River.
She tells me of a place
where town folk party
called
The Devil's Corral

Feb 10th
Lucinda's a thirsty girl
@ 12 miles/gallon
she's sucking back the gas
on the high passes in Nevada
Two passes exceeded 7000ft
Seven hours to Las Vegas

No UFO's @ area 51.

Feb 11th
Up early
Rolled through Vegas
@ noon

Bernice led the way beautifully.
Hoover dam for a dump
and on to the
crack capital of Arizona
"Kingman"
every other guy is a dealer.

The long arm of the law
found me on the route to "Oil Can Henry's"
An illegal lane change
while the streets were asleep.

Lucinda is purring
with a motor full of fresh oil
and a full underside inspection.

Unoccupied roads of Nevada
a sheer joy.

Two jugs a whiskey
It'll be cold
out there
That's when we need it
Piss just behind
the rear wheel
no one will notice
So I piss and smile
and act like I'm retrieving a bag of ice
at the front tire

All I want to do
is drink in my van
and piss outside
into the
thirsty desert sand

The train passes
as the dealers
lick their
drug soaked lips

Tempo's and Topaz's
taking them to the next fix
headbands and untrusted smiles
shaking like
vibrators
and fucking themselves to sleep
no conscience
and crumpled $ bills
Kneeless jeans
and toothless smiles
untrusting jesturing
now I understand
why America packs heat

Feb 12th
And tonight was a length of today
Route 66
ands my boy makes five bucks on the piano
He's such a part of it all
and sensitive to our needs
He's Superman without flying
He's Johnny Cash without age
He's Amazing Grace without religion
and he's all the shit

Feb 14th

It's crazy in the park
Old drunk ladies and neon

Simple fraud
I've become David Ross
from Kingman
to gain a Safeway discount card

Inside our van we are kings
and queens

Pure and simple
we are headed for the
Deep South

Lord it's good to
drink on Sundays

Deep South

The light
a din haze
of orange
over a Crown Royal blurr.
It hadn't all been
this good.
The Southern music
lay awaiting the trip.
He hadn't wrote in weeks
nearly a month
since paper met pen.
Hoping to bring word to life
in Jacksonville.
A long drive through
the Deep South.
It was what he needed,
it would be medicinal


At the top of the cliff
the sign read
"Suicide Louie"
It wasn't the handle he had chosen,
yet it had stuck to him
like
a preacher at
a
Boy Scout meet.


Candles burned
in memory,
as he drank Tequila
in Hell.
In Hell
there was no heartburn,
no heartache'
no one to remind you of
anything


For he had become
"Suicide Louie:"
and that would
explain it all.


He left a black
skid mark
on
the
hardtop
of life.


Something to be remembered by.