Los and Lettes,
the horrorcore fans,
the post-******* brats,
the goths,
the stoners,
the metalheads,
Phish fans with no regrets,
To Les Claypool high on toadstool, Reggaeton  block party vets,
To the cigarette carrying beatniks,
Hipsters in turtlenecks,
Fashionable Teens wearing fashionable things,
Armani and Diamond rings,
Business men in formal attire,
Old folks about to expire,
gospel musicians getting higher and higher.
***** alley banter bands, who find their lyrics at the bottom of cans.

At that I had lost my rhyme scheme knowledge dropped on every scene to which i thought i was superior.

Nothing said in so many lines, fines paid for literary crimes.
Like fines levied for a lost library book.

Sunroof open
AC off
Music cascades off the doors
and the floors
and escapes through the open windows
to bless all within earshot

Eyes jacketed behind
A fresh set of shades,
making the blues and greens pop
to the beat of the wind in my eardrums

Cool
crisp
breeze settling on my face
with a touch of sun
sending a warm glow down
to the very core of my soul.
It's my day like Claypool said.
What's better than Primus
on a fresh Spring day?

The leaves
on the trees
Remind me of newborns that can barely lift their heads;
unfurling
growing
reaching out to touch the sun
like Superman getting his groove back.

Buds bursting with color
like the fourth of July.
What a beautiful day…
It's great
to be out on a drive...