liberal arts studio.montserrat
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by Joe Lambert

Driving through this dust-bowl
vast and red
and you're stretched over the front seat
tune the radio to something, anything
turn it up, it's static-free rock and roll
I'll open the door and let you out
and we will be bored with good-byes
You're stupid cause it's so damn practical
I'm dumb cause I forget it all the time
leave it alone
I'll call you from the turquoise phone
you know the one
by the bed with the fuzzy red throw
and the gold satin trim
brush until my gums bleed
I want to look good for you
sweat on my palms
and my mouth is dry
my heart beats like I'm in a race
my legs are all silly
and shake when I step into the room
The paint has peeled without you

It's late and our car sparkles across the dim lit land
two little lights are twinkling optimistically
we'll be there soon if the tire holds
there are smells worth smelling
and sights worth seeing
like lights in the sky
Warm breeze — the roof is down — our minds are floating

Leave it alone
I'll call you from the hotel phone
you know the one
got nothing to say
but shouldn't I have something important to say
and my head pounds in the thick of it all
I can't see much without my glasses on
all blurry and out of reach
my legs are shaking again
I'm going back to where we came
and the paint has peeled without you.



September '04