I pull up to the stop
Sign and side-blow a little smoke
Out of the window.
Wait for the last burn
Of the cigarette
Then turn to green.

One glance in the mirror
And there’s a young woman
In a Tesla with long brown
Curly hair and bright red lips.
Singing like A Walmart movie star.
**** me now sighs.

We pretend to not play mirror lick.
2 minutes trinkets.

Though I sit up a little straighter
Suddenly self wrongsciouss
And then notice
That my hair is sticking
Up just like a who from whoreville
Ah **** it.

And she lets a smile out on bail
Though I think it’s probably
At the old man waiting to cross
With way too many Christmas bags
of shopping.

And we drive on this endless
Highway of hooks and tumours, one night stands
And one life stands
And pretty moments and heartbreaks and rebounds.
And winning lottery tickets.
And Cuban cigars.
And our hearts call room service
In dive motels.
And then we find someone to laugh with.

and my car is ****
And my hair is going silver
And I hit 40 like an uppercut.

And all of us patch up the cracks
And take the pins out of other peoples voodoo dolls
And dance with what we have.
And do our best to punch above
And throw a trick still.
Like everything was beautiful once
And now even if we fade just into accolades.

We wear a A lucky shirt
A new pair of shoes hung up on the telephone wires
A revenge dress to help undress
The bitterness

A little blue that changes colours
Sometimes
As we drive away

No more a stranger
Than we ever were before.