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Thunder Sandwich #23 |
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Terry Brix |
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Loading Chute Howe, Arco, Carey, Idaho Can't remember in the blur of towns But it was one of them. The bar named the Loading Chute. Never been there before But I know the place so well. Dreams get stockyarded, Stampede of frenzied feelings Drinks calm, funnel me down To a one way chute-more. Heart pumping blood gushes inside Cutting my throat swallow by gulp. Nights of drinking slaughters Everything I love, care about Complete with the coupe de grace Hangover bullet hole behind the ear. Then I chute up at the next bar Load up with a six pack Russian Roulette it all over again. The Loading Chute, pass by at sixty Note the name like a memorial. For me it is the 'no soul land' The front, a guerrilla war zone Where the bottle wins the war At the front, at home, in my head Every town has a Loading Chute But not getting loaded today. Road Kill Past The morning steeped in shaking gold, crimson skies Yellowstone bluest liquid sapphires, caret cackle New pitch-black asphalt scissors Cuts up the valley into carcasses of space. Road is washed ahead in blood Deer life coagulated into the asphalt Thin filmed hemoglobin red rusting Speed intersecting one night in a life. We have been in each other's lives For so long it's beyond memory Wanting to hang in salvage crumbs of past That took years to make a day together. This past relationship hit in the night Created by decades of single days False expectations headlight highlighted Impact sudden death quick. Thin film of love laying out there Covering so much of us yet so little The transfusion of love passion flat Red heartache left with sapphires and gold Love and beauty future road kill. |