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Subject: Tunneling Thoughts


Author:
andy
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Date Posted: 22:45:46 01/14/08 Mon




Tunneling Thoughts


I walked past the Karma into the suite
of some new age design of pure elegance
she twisted like a snake on a chrome pole

I traded in a Franklin for a hundred Washingtons
as the darkness slowly gave way to blue light
I gave her what she wanted, one greenback at a time
and wondered why this place smelled like death
when there was beauty dancing all around me

Later it was some five cheese pizza
cooked by six Mexicans working hard
in my mind I was thinking about an Italian
cooking some burrito looking all confused
it's a mixed up world, or I am out of place
either way things change fast even
when you are staring them right in the face

In the end I don't care who prepares my food
so long as they serve it to me with a smile
there is some International language
in the twist of the lips and a head tilt
some way of saying, "Hey I hope you have a good day"

As I was traveling through the Lincoln Tunnel
I saw the big stripe whiz by, on one side
it said New Jersey and on the other New York
I was wondering who should really care
what state they are in when they are
cruising at sixty miles an hour in a tunnel

I park in my driveway, drive on the Parkway
so it should come as no surprise
when so many things just don't add up
like the way she told me that she loves me
twenty years after I needed to hear it
as if I could go back and forget I walked away

Life is a multitude of endless clatter
I talk, you talk, they talk, so many words
that spin around at midnight in loose minds
just wanting to find peace enough for sleep
I hear them, all of them, years later,
their words still ringing in my tired ears

I cannot forget a fool with bad intentions
it scars my soul, turns my bright day into darkness
screw this crazy idea about not being so sensitive
the whole damn problem with the world
is that most people aren't sensitive enough

I'm still wondering who painted that stripe
down there deep in the mud
they must have been thinking about
how many people would be riding by years later
wondering why they didn't feel any different
after crossing a state line in a dark tunnel

or, maybe they didn't give a shit
maybe they were thinking about
some hot chick swinging on a pole
waiting for them to hand out greenbacks
farely earned with a paint brush in hand
somewhere deep down below a scumy river

It's enough to make you believe in the devil
those beady eyes blinking in the distance
somewhere below the neon lights
selling cheap thrills a dime a dozen
while the evidence of truth lies within
a stones throw of a worthy mind

ajs

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