O pioneer poets, this is a ode to
your drunken Rimbaud ways,
the drum of fury & rage beats on,
O America, O requiem,
the dirge continues year after year.
O lovers yelling at each other into
endless hours of the American night,
Lonely even with a hitting,
a bruise lost in more mascara,
the dirge sways,
into the dance of death,
the American night,
the American freeways,
traveling in a fast car,
going nowhere,
the dry prairies fly by,
like a mirage
like existence itself,
fading.
We drink, we eat, we fuck,
here we go again on
a carnival journey,
step right on up boys & girls,
buy another ticket to
lost days of thrills,
another roll of the dice,
& here we arrive in another
cheap diner or motel,
over coffee or smoke,
we choke,
madness in the darkness,
darkness in the madness,
O lost wanderers
sway in the western winds,
moving route to route
on maps, money, madness,
moving to more requiems,
we sing songs in silence,
on steel streets &
crazy corridors of nowhere stores &
strange gas station salvations
we sail into the American
fright,
a nation of nameless
with graves of the unknown poets,
O pioneer poets, this is a ode to
your drunken Rimbaud ways,
the drum of fury & rage beats on.