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Isaac Sep 2017
Let me tell you 'bout a story of a truck drivin' girl,
In a custom made monster truck she took for a whirl!
That little speed demon, gonna be a star!
With her learners permit, and an adult in the car!
She may be out for a lark, but she can't parallel park,

She's a truck drivin' girl!

One day she'll get her license, and she'll have it all,
She can pick up her friends, and take a drive to the mall!
That little red head, gonna rock my world!

She's a truck drivin girl!
She's a truck drivin girl!

She's a,
Tire spinnin'
Gear grindin'
Clutch burnin'
Back firin'
Paint tradin'
Red linin'
Over heatin'
Throttle stompin'

Truck drivin' girl!
That last bit took FOREVER
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
The mile markers sound like a fan in the wind
Was that last one three eighty-eight or four-hundred and ten?
They go from green to black and back to green again
I'm so tired the colors are starting to blend

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
He's starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

It seems I can't out-drive my problems
It's an undying bush with unwanted blossoms
I never see my kids because this road never ends
So I keep driving and lie about not needing friends

I know I got my issues
But then don't we all?
When I think about the world's
Mine seem kinda' small

I'm gonna' quit complainin'
'Cause I got some work to do
Yeah I got my problems
I'm gonna start solvin' the one with you

I used to throw the ball with my boy after work
But they cut back my hours and my wife thinks I'm a ****
So I decided to jump back into my old rig
I'm tryin' to get out of the hole I decided to dig

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
Starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

I've never been a dreamer
But this black-top has turned white
Floating above the clouds where I'm free
I wonder if I can trust the light

I realize how angry I am
That's not me but it's who I've been
I know I can be the man my mom raised
It's not a matter of if it's a matter of when

Do you know the soul of a truck driver?
He's starin' straight ahead and drivin' forever
Can you feel the heart of a truck driver?
He's got scars but you know he's a survivor

I don't mind burning my heart on the road
It simmers as I reap what I sowed
I'm trying to save the hearts that I protect
For my children I'll suffer; but never neglect*


Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona
Phil Lindsey  May 2015
Rocks
Phil Lindsey May 2015
Drivin’ with the kids in tow
Windows down, nowhere to go
Hands outside, feel wind blow
On country roads, fields passin’ slow.

Saw a hayrack sittin’ by a fence
“Rocks for Sale – Fifty Cents”
Thought I, it makes no earthly sense
To demand for rocks some recompense.

But the sign - unique enough to hail
(I protested - but to no avail)
The missus and the kids prevailed
A sale you see, is still a sale!

Before day and feelings I did mar
Realizing for the course it’s par
I turned around and stopped the car
It’s what I’ve become, and whom we are .

To the rack and rocks the kids did sprint
I got closer, had to squint
So I could read the finer print
Kids might have seen, but care they din’t.

Said the bigger rocks did cost a buck
I knew then that I was out of luck
Between a hard place and a rock I’m stuck
‘Twas bait and switch, and smelled like muck.

But the kids had picked from rocks galore
Put them in the trunk to store
The rack was less some rocks times four
And the coffee can had four bucks more!
PwL  5/16/15
A Thomas Hawkins Aug 2010
Blacktop, soft top, foot upon the gas
Highway, my way, miles of haulin' ***

singalong, bringalong music for the day
iTunes, my tunes, soundtrack all the way

sunshine, fun time, havin such a blast
drivin, arrivin, trading poetry for gas

Top down, drop down time for us to chill
Line up, sign up, still got three seats to fill.
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
throw some ****** coal in this steam locomotive
fueled by drugs, fame, money, *******, and notierity
all them girls know its me,
and some think its Reid,
but they not in the game
muhfuckas know my name (Charlie Sheen)

all these ****** uppers in my nasal passages
can't handle this
parents goin through my phone and they check my text messages
they like - "riddle me this
all you do is talk about drugs and spittin game on *******
when you gon make us proud son
you sling dope but we aint seen one
penny - and we gettin sick of it
not because your raps are ill
but because you're selfish
clean your room, do your homework, and get a job
or you'll be homeless
suckin **** for crack
and you don't want that
then you won't be able to attack and conquer
Make some change - cause you're drivin me and your father bonkers
and your ****** moniker is Reid Donovan not Charlie Sheen"

Uh...

And i be like...
"don't fret Mom, urrbody love me
i'm a terrorist droppin bombs on these rap songs
and one day
i'ma be rich as ****
all because i'm a genius
ballin, swag my *** out like Josef Stalin
and i dictate, reiterating as I weave my words so great
too late, to stop my hostile take over
i'll show her, how to ****** peddle and be stellar
mean smokin green
well up, runnin these streets
watch me take over the world
cause the name I sign my checks with is Charlie Sheen
I be, conducting
noxious, fallout as I spit
cause my saliva is toxic
white *** *******
but i'm still hood rich

We gon take over the world
while I'm on my Charlie Sheen ****
watch me stand tall
high above all the rest
see me on national TV
believe they'll remember me as the best
stick me with a knife
and watch me bleed liquid gold
nationwide tours, sold out shows
winning - throw my fastball
three strikes - all the oppositions out
wolf gang **** them all

and you know I be on those strikes
cause I aint about them ***** - no
I'm Charlie Sheen *****

I'm gon take over the world
while Mac Miller's getting mad
you're only seventeen kid,
how you write **** like that
Its because
the only present I ever got for christmas
was a big box of swag
just messin take some lessons

man i'm jonesin
8 am, gotta hankerin for a fixin
call the operator cause i'm on a ****** mission
big dave answers my call
and I reach those outer limits,
all he says is press pound and i'll connect you to the mooooon

When girls ask me if I be on that Charlie Sheen ****,
I just tell em no - I AM CHARLIE SHEEN *****
I wrote this when I was 17.
Cynthia Jean May 2016
Windshield wipers
slappin' time
Grandpa drivin'
Grandma singin'...

Goin' home from my
weekly Wednesday visit

after my mama died...

only   allowed
one day a week
with Grandma
my mama's mama...

Always a stop
at the store
for one more
Golden book
and a roll of Lifesavers
on the way home...

and I remember
my  tears
going back  to a place
that did not feel
like home
and Grandma singin'
"You are my sunshine
my only sunshine".

My tears are fallin'
now
with the memory
of her voice
and the sight and sound
of the rain...

Grandpa drivin'
and Grandma singin'....
and those windshield wipers
they were slappin' time...

cj 2016
my mother died when i was two
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
That ***** Named Desire
I had a succubus try to take my seed
in a dream today   
I broke the connection and said
***** you gotta pay to playyyyyyy

You so used to controlling my desires
well, NOT ANYMORE
Best get on your knees and call me sire
“Sir you have the floor”

I wage war on the empire
of the realm of desire
So if you conspire to be in my line of fire
Don’t say I didn’t tell you,
    You’ve earned my Ire.

The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM



So I wage war on the realm of the evil fae
Ima PURIFY da demons until  
dey take me away (screamed)

Bleed out into LIFE;
  reverse the vampire effect
place succubi in a hearse
  and drive them straight ta deaph


cause lately You been drivin me crazy
and making my will, focus, an determination
sooo haeeezzzzy

But NO MORE
cause now Its time to
Settle DA SKORE


Ritually open my wounds
and bleed acid on you
Don’t worry theres enough
cause your hackneyed and few

Ima chase the Daemons off
Smoke my dreads to their lungs
and make dem young cough
so offten I put em in a hot-boxed coffin
Now your outta breath
But im just not stoppin

huh (echo(
whats this? whats this....(echo(  
Claws,
talons,
teeth,
and  uh oh
Blood barrels stacked Its a wierd supply depot,

for that army growin
and growlin behind your eye, see though....
They Perma-
        on your shoulders,
   and now mine, Truth Show





!!!!!!1111RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!!!!!!!11
So my wings tear free of my back
For so long they’ve been bound and compact
I look to my lovers and brothers and CRy
Stand!
Pick up your weapons,
Humanity,
Its time to act


A TRUMPET BLOWS,
   BEATING WINGS
THE DRUMS CONTINUE INTO THE DISTANCE


The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Matthew James Jun 2016
We're off to Never never land - Paracetamol, cucumber sandwiches and the lost rent boy

Gav called me up.
Him and Tolly were going out to Never Never Land in Blackburn
3 lost boys off on a curious adventure

Mi mum dropped me off at Gavs 'ouse ont' Shad estate
Gav got us a coke before we caught t' buz in
But 'e sprinkled in some white pewder
"What's this? Pixie dust?"
"It's summat to gi' you Speed" said Tolly
"just drink it!" Said Gav
So I did

"2nd Star t' t' reet and straight on t' t' moornin'!"

But we'd bin sold crushed paracetamol

So we just acted like we were ****** and lied to each other about ow buzzin wi were
But we weren't buzzin
Then we caught buz in
Waitin' for t' affects o' t' artificial amphetamine t' kick in
'N' we got t' Neverland
No mermaids 'ere
No pretty ***** girls
There were a few blokes wi dodgy eyes n limps
But no no, no-n-no no, no-n-no no no no there's no pirates!
Just ****** plastic Palm trees
'N' townies in fluorescent nylon shirts
No peacock feathered hats ere
Just steps n curtains n aggressive faces
'N' me wi' a bowl cut and trepidation
Tryin' t' think happy thoughts

Surrounded bi freebooters, piccaroons, Buccaneers, filibusters and Rovers
Wi' their left foot, right foot dancing
And an eye on t' maidens
Sneering in our direction
Lost boys
That 'aven't grown up

I sort o' skirted round edges feelin' scared
Then went to sit at sides on an empty table 'n' hid

On t' next table were a nice lookin' couple o' blokes.
They must o' bin good mates!
They were cuddlin' 'n' touchin' each other a lot.
Anyhow, thi got talking t' mi
Told 'em I'd not bin out before
"Ow old are you lad? 14/15?"
"I'm 18"
Thi sort o' laughed, dunno why
Then one of 'em offered me a cucumber sandwich
I thought t' mi sel'
"I dunno much about nightclubs but I dunt think folk normally bring cucumber sandwiches!"
But I were 'ungry so I ate it
Then I think 'e thought we were mates coz 'e were touchin mi leg
I 'ad to crow for Gav an' Tolly
They came in like Peter Pan and rescued mi and I set off for 'ome

I went to t' phone box n' called mi mum
Didn't know town reet well
So I waited for 'er outside o' mi old school
There were some scary lookin people on one side o't' road snappin at each other like crocodiles
So I stood under t' lamppost so I were int' leet an' t' cars passin could see mi
Felt safer like that
Time passed
Tick tock tick tock
T' crocodiles were lurkin
Each time a car passed I stepped out a bit
To look for mi mum
Drivers kept lookin at mi nervously n drivin off
Maybe thi thought I were a crocodile too
N they kept smirking at mi
Then some officers pulled up like privateers in their blue and white flashin galleon
Made us stand again t' wall as I asked for parle
'N' thi searched mi for treasure
Asked us if I pulled into port for rentin
"Rentin' what? I'm Waitin for mi mum."
"Aye cap'n! Hahaha! I'm sure you are! Dressed in tight little hot pants!"
"These aren't 'ot pants, they're chinos?!"
Then mi mum turned up an said "oh aye! This streets t' red light district!"
"Well ****** me!"

Never, never again... Until uni happened
samuel ck Nov 2011
ol king crab kingo the highwaymen**

cumma walking down that hallways street
oll king crab king o the highwaymen
he got swagger boom swagger
he got boom bap pow
pow
pow
-
i seen im runnat comb through his hair
i seen it move back
i seen it glitter-glisten under em bright lights
onna ceeling
-
i seen im touchin
mercury aphrodite
i seen im touchin onna ladies
hera n persephone
he been touchin onna ladies
backadatruck
backadatruck
back seat
pull em uppa cliffside
pull em uppa cliff
bring em inna that backseat
5 minutes in heaven baby
you know it
-
ol king crab dont go to school
he appears
he come-and-go
touch-and-go
in-out
he just visiting
dont need no work
dont need to work
get nuffa that at home
-
ol king crab drop out
not too much trouble
he never drop in

get a job drivin a truck
aint no better way to live
then watching those glitter-glisten lights
on that highway
run that comb through your hair
do it one more time,
do it for us king crab

yeah, just like that
-
down that road he go
b back l8r
b back
b back
down down down
hot stuffy old car
dice onna mirror
just like a movie

luck pair of dice
such a lucky paradise
inna truck

down that road

fulla nuthin

fulla nuthin

fulla NOTHING.
-
Ol' King Crab he *****
he chew
he *****
that how to live
that how to live?
yeah, son.
in back o tha gas station he *****
back inna gas station he chew
tobacco gum tobacco

he take em ladies by the hand
them ladies aint outta worry
king crab outta worry
watch whose hand you take.
-
Listen.
Don't let him take you by the hand.
Don't let him TAKE YOU.
DON'T LET HIM TAKE YOU BY THE HAND
-
ol king crab gettin
****** inna back of the gas
station
pullin outta driveways
and outta women

watch whose hand you take on that open road
you lose yo head
Geno Cattouse May 2014
The room is bouncin
Wall to wall base so fat you can walk on it BLIP BLEEEP :-).

Chant and grind on syntho growl. Strobes hittin all the corners...locked on the groove bouncy move.
Mechanical funk....Double dutchin.

Hollan-daze orange crushin the room. Afro pulse Housin you down..Blip Bleep.

Two hours straight epical trance.....Old disco gone techno high. Strobed out on that techno Applejack  meet Afrojack.
New trance city.
Luda an fitty
Ear hustlin this one
NuUrban stepchild drivin the beat...Blip Blip Bleeeep.

Hop til ya drop ta Tiesto
Super techno out your mind
More bounce to the ounce.
Got GaGa goin gaga
Dont stop.
Dont quit.
Blip Bleep.
Its 8:30 in the AM
The Corn Moon
is being routed by a
Manassas cloud bank

NPR be barking
Irma this, Irma that
my tremblin Rav4
stuck in the rush
is idling behind
a pair of gray hairs
spewing
leaded premium
out the back
of a big old black Buick
sportin Florida tags

inching north up I95
I’m relieved to be
a thousand miles
ahead of the
monstrous *****
denuding Barbuda
deflowering the
****** Islands
and threatening to topple
the last vestiges of
Castro’s Dynasty
by disrupting upscale
bourgeois markets
for cafe Cubanos,
cool Cohibas and
bold Bolivars

she’s a CAT 5
counterclockwise
spinning catastrophe
churning through
the Florida straits
bending steel framed
Golden Arches
shaking the tiki shacks
gobbling lives
defiling tropical dreams

the best
meteorological minds
on the Weather Channel
plug the Euro model
to plot a choreography
of Irma’s cyclonic sashay

they predict she’ll
strut her stuff
up a runway  
that perfectly
dissects the  
Sunshine State
ransacking
the topography
venting carnage
like battalions of
badly behaved frat boys,
schools of guys gone wild
sophomores, wreaking havoc
during a Daytona Beach
spring break
droolin over *******
popping woodies at
wet tee shirt contests
urinating on doorstoops
puking into Igloo Coolers
and breaking their necks
from ill advised
second floor leaps
into the shallow end
of Motel 6 pools

but I’m rolling north
into the secure
arms of a benign
Mid Atlantic Summer
like other refugees,
my trunk is
filled with baggage
of fear and worry
wondering
if there’re be anything
left to return to
once Irma
has spent herself
with one last
furious ****
against the
Chattanooga Bluffs of
Lookout Mountain

Morning Edition
Is yodeling a common
seasonal refrain
the gubmint is
just about outta cash
congress needs to
increase the debt limit

My oh my,
has the worm turned
during the Obama years
the GOP put us through a
Teabag inspired nightmare
gubmint shutdowns
and sequestration
shaved 15 points
off every war profiteers vig
it gave a well earned
long overdue
take the rest of the week off
unpaid vacation
to non essential
gubmint workers
while a cadre of
wheelchair bound
Greatest Generation
military vets get
locked out of the
WWII Memorial on the
National Mall

this time around
its different
we have an Orange Hair
in the office and there's
some hyper sensitivity
to raise the debt ceiling
given that Harvey
has yet to fully
drain from the
Houston bayous

the colossal cleanup
from that thrice in a
Millennial lifetime storm
has garnered bipartisan support
to  clean up the wreckage
left behind by a
badly behaved
one star BnB lodger
who took a week
long leak into the
delicate bayous of
Southeast Texas

yet we are infused
with optimism that our
Caucasian president
and his GOP grovelers
now mustered
to the Oval Office
will slow tango
with the flummoxed
no answer Dems
to get the job done

pigs do fly in DC
Ryan and McConnell
double date with
Pelosi and Schumer
get to heavy pettin
from front row seats
beholding droll  
Celebrity Apprentice
reruns

The Donald, Nancy and Chuck
slip the room for a little
menage au trois side action
transforming Mitch and Paul
into vacillating voyeurs
who start jerking their dongs
while POTUS, and his
new found friends
get busy workin
the art of a deal

rush hour peaks
static traffic grows
in concert with
a swelling  
frenetic angst
driving drivers
to madness
terrified
they won't
get paid if
the debt ceiling
don't rise
they honk horns
rev engines
thumb iPhones
and sing out
primal screams

unmindful drivers
piloting Little Hondas
bump cheap Beamers
start a game of
bumper cars
dartin in and out
of temporary gaps
uncovered by the
spastic fits and starts
of temporary
decongested
ebbs and flows

A $12 EZ Pass
gambit is offered
the fast lane
on ramp
has few takers
just another
pick your pocket
gubmint scheme
two express lanes
lie vacant
while three lanes of
non premium roadway
boast bumper to bumper
inertness
wasted fuel
declining productivity
skyrockets
the  wisdom of
the invisible hand doesn't
seem to be working

DOJ bureaucrats
In Camrys and Focuses
dial the office
to let somebody
know they’ll
be tardy

gubmint contractors in
silver Mercedes begin
jubilantly honking horns
NPR has just announced that
Pelosi and Schumer
joined the Orange team
the rise in the debt ceiling
will nullify their 15%
sequestration pay cut

NPR reports the
National Cathedral will
deconsecrate two hallowed
stained glass windows of
rebel generals R E Lee
and Stonewall Jackson
it's a terrible shame that
the Episcopal Church
will turn its back on the
rich Dixie WASPS
who commissioned these
installations to commemorate
the church's complicity
in sanctifying the
institution of slavery,
WWJD?

as I ponder
this Anglican
conundrum another
object arrests my
streaming consciousness
upsetting an attention span
shorter and less deep
than the patch of oil  
disappearing under the front
of the RAV as I thunder by
at 5 MPH

to the left I eye a
funny looking building
standing at attention
next to a Bob Evans

I’m convinced
Its gotta be CIA
a 15 story
gubmint minaret
a listening post
wired to intercept
mobile digital
confabulations
from crawling traffic
inching along
beneath its feet

this thinking node
pulsing with
intelligence
reeking with
counterintelligence
the tautological
contradiction
guarantees the
stasis of our
confused
national consciousness

strategically positioned to
tune into the
intractable Zeitgeist
culling meta code
planting data points
In Big Data
data farms
running algos
to discern bits
of intelligence
endeavoring to reveal
future shock trends
knows nothing
reveals less

the buildings cover
is its acute
conspicuousness
gray steel frame
silver tinted glass
multiple wireless antennas
black rimmed windows
boldly proclaim
any data entering
this cheerless edifice
must abandon all hope
of ever being framed
in a non duplicitous
non self serving sentence

the gray obelisk a
national security citidel
refracts the
fear and loathing
the sprawling
global anxiety
our civilization's
discontent
playing out
in the captive
soft parade
ambling along
the freeway jam
imobilized
at its stoop

Moning Edition jingle
follows urgent report of
FEMA scamblin assets
arbitraging Harvey and Irma
triaging two
tropical storm tragedies
and a third girl
just named Maria
pushed off the Canaries
and is on its way to a
Puerto Rico
homecoming

while
gubmint  bureaucrats
anxiously push on
to their soulless offices
the rush hour jam
has peaked
my WAZE
is having a
nervous breakdown

next lane over
a guy in a gold PT Cruiser
is banging on his steering wheel
don’t think this unessential worker
will win September's
civil servant of the month award

Ex Military
K Street defectors
slamming big civie
Hummers
getting six mpg
lobby for a larger
apportionment
of mercenary dollars
for Blackwater's
global war on terror

Prius Hybrids
silently roll on
politely driven by
EPA Hangers On
hoping to save
a bit of the planet
from an Agency Director
intent on the agency's
deconstruction
the third 500 year hurricane
of the season
is of no consequence

obsolete
GMC Jimmy’s
are manned by
Steve Mnunchin
wannabes
the frugal
treasury dept
ledger keepers
pour good money after bad
to keep the national debt
and there clanking
jalopies working

driving Malibus
DOL stalwarts
stickin with the Union
give biz to GMC

nice lookin chicks
young coed interns
with big daddy doners
fix their faces and
come to work
whenever they want

my *** is killing me
I squirm in my seat
to relieve my aching sacroiliac
and begin to wonder if my name
will appear on some
computer printout today?
can’t afford an IRS audit
maybe my house will
be claimed by some
eminent domaine landgrab?
Perhaps NSA
may come calling,
why did I sign that
Save The Whales
Facebook Petition?

The EZ Pass lane
is movin real easy
mocking the gridlock
that goes all the way
to Baltimore
a bifurcated Amerika
is an exhaust spewing
standing condemnation
to small “R”
republicanism  

glint from windshields
is blinding
my **** is hurtin and
gettin back to Jersey
gunna take a while
GPS recalcs arrival time

an intrepid Lyft driver
feints and dodges
into the traffic gaps
drivin the shoulder
urging his way to the
Ronnie Reagan International
I'm sure
gettin heat from
a backseat fare
that shoulda pinged
an hour earlier

Irma creeps
toward the Florida Keys
faster then the
glacial jam
befuddling congress

I think I just spotted
Teabag Patriot
Grover Norquist
manning a rampart
bestriding a highway overpass
he’s got a clipboard in hand
checking the boxes
counting cars
taking names
who’s late?
who’s unessential?

man
whatta jam we're in

Music Selection:
Jeff Beck: Freeway Jam

Orlando
9/21/17
jbm
written as im stuck in jam headin back to jersey
In the chaos of the city, City!
Where the wolven on the prowl,
Hot legs and looking pretty, leather skirt and upturned scowl,
You know it won’t discourage ditty, it only raises lustful howls,
In the chaos of the city, (pause)…a hunter’s stalking you now-ow-ow! (nowel)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)
To the animals you’re pretty, in those heels with that prance, (pray-ance)
In the chaos of the city, wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)
In the chaos of the city, tonight it’s *** out on the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city! City!
While trailing scent all a-round, (a-ray-ound)
Curvy-body, lookin’ at-cha (pause)… my teeth glistening, open mouth, (may-outh)
They’re not asking for much yeah, won’t be saying baby please,
Wolves you know they’re gonna hunt-cha, strutting past Ole’ factories,
Drivin’ n’ dancing yah, till you’re exhausted on your knees,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)

To the animals you’re pretty, Pretty!
In your heels they watch you prance, (pray-ance)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Tonight it’s *** out in the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
In the chaos of the city,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Feel his claws up on you now…

Ooh-Ooh, …In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city…
Lyrical poetry or song.

— The End —