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By Misti Date: 2003 Jun 10 Comment on this Work [[2003.06.10.04.27.13553]] |
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with the last ass kissing Thanks So Much of the evening I throw my headset and calculator in locker #25 glide like a drunk zombie past color-coordinated displays of bras and panties and examples of outfits that are not appropriate for a Professional Environment say Goodnight to the John Lennon look-alike security guard wonder what he thinks of me does he watch my silent fuck yous and psychotic facial expressions on his little screen does it matter what he thinks if my husband adores me I head across the dark parking lot toward the Corolla I keep meaning to clean out cluttered with mix tapes filled with songs that no longer inspire me and the desert is more alive than I'll ever be I feel the presence of the rattlesnakes and the Navajo ghosts they hate me and what I stand for they would like to watch the building burn and so would I a tornado would be equally cool it's been black and white Kansas for far too long every freak yearns for a candy colored Oz but the highway is mine it's a winding bumpy trail with too much fast food and not enough wild too much Wal-Mart not enough surprise I'm dead as I drive "Hotel California" on the radio no longer does the trick I switch it on and off bored with every station as I look out at the stars the river the factory smoke I don't see anything new until I'm almost home and suddenly a coyote trots across the road and I come alive saying Go On, Coyote! You Are Not To Be Fucked With! I honk the horn and he stops in his tracks and looks around I have found a friend oddly enough here in this desert city of shed skin and drag races and therapists who hate me 'cause I never show up. |