I’m Fading Footnotes (kids, don’t try this one at home)

long ago I was real
lost and damned
high somewhere
with the wolf on the mountain
near the heartbeat of river road

stumbling a bit and spilling moments
lawless monkey with
spurs on my back
trying for first place
in the drowning club

now and then foolishly aiming
some speeding moonlit chrome
through terrible thrill lottery
of unsuspecting others
on mothers twisted roads

it was rinzai rodeo on wild
wide centerlines and bucking rubbers
deep and down with
ma natures wrinkles
all hot and empty she was
with delicious random curves beckoning

she screamed in the corners
as I kissed them all
sliding through her
and through her
ravishing every wily weaving edge

we barely hung on as
we thrashed real good
back and forth in
sliding sideways time
roadside was blurred lines

from spaces of living breathing earth
to places of geometric and sequential
to manicured and captive lawns
bound and gagged with well intentioned concrete
and you know about intentions
clad with skid marked long linear straight jacket roadways

through crisscrossed and yellow striped
asphalt restraining belts
thrashing all unsacred and holy
to try and free us both somewhow
if but for a moment

my rebops were cool and
tapped roaring footnotes
all brash and slash
smoldering strokes of new age zen
in teckno glide calligraphy

on spinning squealing paintbrushes
backed by screaming eight
piece combo from detroit
the music is the machine
a real rapid dose of rigid alloys and dense steel

from rural to urban canvas
hard rocking lines in smoke
six grand plus spinning
beyond the beyond of
whatever the roadways wrote

searching those long moments
tangled with the wild and sideways
to chords of gear change after
gear change after gear change
a tune of mechanical notes

then
chasing fans under flashing ruby lights
came at me I think for maybe
autographs or more but couldn’t keep it up
I grinned real loud and gave them my best
just fading footnotes

now
the fool I was only is in poems
that spill me from my midage sack
to touch what’s gone
except in heart and verse
I don’t look back

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