Faded double yellow lines
cracking from the weight of years
bound for glory in the sun
seasons turn around like wheels
metal home to jackalope
stalled out on another slope
faded sense of history
rolled on wheels that rot away
tang of dust and sediment
yellow lines on faded sign
wonder what the hell it meant
reg a dollar forty-nine
contrails fade and pavement shimmers
those days seem like mortal glimmers
New York, Carthage, Athens, Rome -
these days folks stick close to home
Wonder where the hell the sun goes
and where dinner's coming from
life is light the candle flickers
one quick breath and then it's spent
wonder what the hell it meant
unleaded dollar nineteen cents
edited 7/9/1997
Original content on this page © Alan P. Scott. All rights reserved.
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ascott@pacifier.com