A shot of juice for good luck.
Some whiskey for the upset gullet.
My gun is loaded,
the joint is lit,
time to sway through these blighted streets.
mean men, cruel women, waifs,
junkies, needle freaks
populate these boulevards.
The gun rest silently in the glove box.
It waits as I cruise down shot out hotels
hookah lounges with stolid Arabs
I burn my joint and flick the roach outside.
My love is laughter,
my love is tender
and in these suffocating nights
my love is vital.
I need a women with a fat ass
and sturdy legs to hold up the rump.
I need a pleasant women of love incarnate
I have the poem,
I have some whiskey,
I have some weed,
sweet lady cannabis
these nights are the nights people get stabbed in
beat to death,
left in dirt road alleys
I cruise in the honda
and cruise to nowhere.