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Jo Barber Apr 2018
Like a dried out pen,
you lay before me.
    Perhaps you served a purpose once,
    back in the days
    where leaves still blew
    through these Cadillac-filled streets.
Vanished and forgotten,
like a goldfish
in a bowl without food.
      You'll starve eventually
      from the poverty of your mood.
Like a torn photograph,
the image of you is scratched, incomplete,
a deflated soccer ball
lying somewhere in the street.
      A dried out pen
        can write no more,
           but it does not negate
             the works it wrote
                      once before.
Feedback? Comments? I had trouble finding a good ending.
SøułSurvivør Apr 2017
There he goes! He's quite a sight!
He's an Ace... a STAR!
The life of him! It's 3 at night
He's just pulled from the bar
He'll blind you... ***** your light
Anywhere you are
Is he cool?... or a blight
He'll **** you with his car....

Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad to the bone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He goes it alone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He should be goin' home
Rattletrap Cadillac
He'll hit you... then he's GONE.

He just got his SSI
So he's good to go
Drinks as much as he can buy
Hard liquor, don't you know
Has to give driving a try
And he don't go slow
When it comes to DUI
He star's up the SHOW!


The Grim Reaper on the road
He got drunk & stank
He ain't scared... a gun to load
And he ain't shootin' blanks
Jail may be his abode
If he weren't so rank
As to hit, and then just GO
Cuz he drives a tank!

Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad... he's NATIONWIDE!
Rattletrap Cadillac
With Jack Daniels on his side
Rattletrap Cadillac
Because he won't decide

To hit some trees... or give up his KEYS


(C) 4/18/2017
I saw someone emerging from our alleyway
in a beat up Cadillac. Hence this song...
Brittle Bird Apr 2015
that night, I saw bodies in the motel bathtub
beckoning like a 50's Cadillac
back seat beats and Father's  
bottle of snatched brandy up
to bring back our youth

and stay
for one last whisper in a last-innocent ear
the diner lights buzzing like
a lifetime of loss to mistakes
that can be little more or
less than broken glass lies
Day 23 of NaPoWriMo.
Neal Cassady
February 8 ,1926  -  February 4 , 1968
San Miguel D'Alene , Mexico

Dead from extreme exposure
Four days short of forty-two

Only fitting , next to a railroad track
He had many words to haul back

The wolf sleeps next to the silver rail
Howling at a silver moon that fell

I see here he drove a ******* Cadillac
Through the San Francisco streets

With the top down
Smiling free , it was meant to be

Life is a quasar
"Americans should know the universe itself as a road , as many roads , as roads for traveling souls." Walt Whitman .

— The End —