What a Bass-Head,
the only one to ever fill me with dread.
She asks, "Hey baby, did you forget to take your meds?"

I just needed 3 xanax bars to remember not to forget about her, the girl drinking from the sweet wobbly nectar of the Bass Gods, I'd drop everything to visit her in Oregon.

She once flew to Durango, to road-trip home east, with me the beast. In my jalopy hooptie of a 1992 Corolla, falling apart, ripping at the seams. Across this country we flowed over rivers and streams and poured unhindered by time or space. Through the great sand dunes of Colorado we played our own tunes, the stalagmites and horrid cave crickets of Mammoth Cave Kentucky, It got fucky at a seedy motel in Kansas, another in West Virginia. We make it to Fredericksburg, Viriginia, in the span of less than a week we have roared and  soared through half the continent. We spend a night with our settled friends, married now, Shaun and Rachel, lovebirds. Until, home to Philly in one straight shot, through DC **** DC and up through Delaware, we are finally home. A journey complete. Sunsets, mountains, forests, lakes, dunes, beaches, deserts, plains, prairie, and perc 30s. All now a part of our memories,
how sweet they be.