Mexican Radio
By ralph
Wed, 15 Sep 2004
- 1360 reads
It was the night of the firefly
just west of Canfield
somewhere
in the bowl of Kansas
she sat in her coupe
smoking home grown
outside 'Billy's Super Rib'
that proudly never closes
where she'd worked for seven years
listening to Mexican radio
that annoyingly never ends
she had nothing much to contemplate
just the dust and the sizzled wind
the boys that came and went
on motorbikes mescaline
and mediocrity
so she flicked the roach
put the wreck into reverse
slammed on a Joni tape
that played all the way
to Newfoundland
her shimmering northern light
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