i ride the canyon rim
careening the curves of life
while death below claws for a pants leg
and my curled lip says,
the top down on a gulf coast highway
i pass sea and earth haggling
over property rights
and the art of supremacy
i lean salt spray to the gale
in rounding the horn
spitting challenge to the shoal
while my maniacal glance to the deep
says, where are your balls, oh
father of fear?
mine are here for the winning
these feet scale the frozen peaks
knowing the crevasses lair lurks
below, whispering me a bit to the left,
a little more firmly
a flag of glory for a soul
every journey needs a vehicle
and not just any will do
you can't plow a field with a camaro
and john deere won't win bristol
so now and here, in this journey
is it my heart burning rubber?
my mind weighing fear?
or my spirit telling both
to fuck the hell off!
perhaps i drive them all at once
maybe i just need a good wreck