Like a weathering Jesus

Stuck to the dashboard

With a cello between her knees

Her soul kneels to the occasion

I spit in the rearview mirror

As if I could make it think

While the beaten up vehicle tears

Down the dirt road

To another colour hell

It used to be another story

Mostly in another town

Now it’s mostly waiting

For the man to show

By now for all intents and purposes

Are going to be straight up

Some are going to be black

Some are going to be blue

Faced with the utter lack of purpose

She bitches about levitation

Pretending not to see me

Hovering around the clouds

Suspended on the brink

Of her lament in C minor

Now that I have surmised her secret

She bitches on a speeding mission

Where for better or for worse

She smiles like pending doom

As to throw me the curve

In the final stretch I deserve

While the pole position swallows

Hurdling unfinished obstacles

To the finish I grasp

For a cubic foot of a worldmap

So there’s nothing for me to add

Alas she is bitching to the beat.