Engine shut off,
brakes released.
We rolled the teardrop window car
down the driveway
like spies.
Curfew or no curfew,
we discovered our own
way to decode the night.
Engine shut off,
brakes released.
We rolled the teardrop window car
down the driveway
like spies.
Curfew or no curfew,
we discovered our own
way to decode the night.
Turns out musicians
are mortals—shouldn’t be
a surprise. All those young
martyrs. But still it is.
You’re the latest
demonstrator.
You left behind
one of the best. And because
I, too, am
mortal and
a thief, I can’t resist:
“I can’t get a license
to drive in my car. But
I don’t really need it,
if I’m a big star.”
Step outside
the city
on a clear night.
Note: Stolen lyric from “O My Soul,” by Alex Chilton, from the album Radio City.