MEN OF THE ROAD

Poetry Potluck--With Real Toads

Funny Bunny Fridays--d'Verse Poets Pub

rub-a-dub-dub

three guys in a club
called Boys Town
just across the Mexican line
and I was lookin' so 


fine
when she came over to me
so fresh-faced
in what must have been 
a blonde wig


i tried to read 
her body language
but it was in Spanish
and the only words I 
knew were quanto es?


and


while ultimately 
legal tender
was exchanged 
for counterfeit love
there was something there
that fit like a glove
and she wanted me to spend
the night
with the meter turned off




but


we were men of the road
and it was time to hit it


just outside of town
we spotted a peasant
lying prone in the ditch
drunk
or maybe dead


Jake stopped the car
and went sprinting back there
(thought maybe he was concerned)
but he came trotting back
with the man's hat in hand
and he wore that trophy
all the way to Panama


our code of the road
had been set
though we were still wet
behind the ears
we roared on outta there
lookin' for adventure
in whatever came our way


still eons away
from the day
when the sweet bird of youth
would take a massive crap
on our windshield