Texas Highway

dude band part 5
(song of the Vermin)

The first word comes limply
The first idea wanders with the luggage
The first image doesn’t want to get up
Right now,
Rolls over
and returns to sleep.

This time is uninspiring
If I was to write about
Selfish Trailer Park Trash

Numb on low cost toxins
Too confused to be angry
Too frustrated to be right
Looking for entertainment, a fight, an injury
Just to know that they were alive for a moment
Looking up to the ones we slander
And work for
The validation stamp delivered by a concrete floor
Cheap plastic scraps to fight over
A limp, expensive cotton
Sex with a stranger
They cannot say they understand the subtleties
There are none
They cannot say they understand the conviction
There is none

And yet they circle
And wait
Looking for a glimpse
Then a three mile inch

“Can you sign this?”
“Take a picture with me…”

“Give me something, no, not that, three of those and they are not enough, I know what I want, I’m not done yet, let me crawl into you and escape my dismal existence for a while, you owe me, it’s not enough and the wrong kind, you’re an asshole, you’re old and you sold out, give my poor white trash dreams something more, I have no identity, no hope, no job, no clue, no teeth, see you next time…”

Rodents at least have a plan and survival skills
Long whiskers
Tails and sharp teeth
Credit where it’s due
Get a life, go home
Leave us alone.