Camaraderie
Driving like madmen, westbound on I-40
with the Norwood brothers and their
hillbilly rock
snare (tap bang tap bang), whistle
guitar (pluck pluck pluck), whistle
the sky, indecisive as ever
spitting out drops of rain and swallowing
them back up, like stomaching
a shot of whisky
hazy winter fog bonds with cigarette smoke
another friendship formed in
the universe
snare, whistle
snare, oo-wee
nobody speaks what's on our minds
(hamsters on wheels, sweating to produce
that unspeakable thought):
we're fucking old, man
but we can never disband
la la la la
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