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Not one damn person stands to offer

A ride or a fine 'how do you do?'

Out on the stretches 

Of those long and lonesome 

desert highways


Young and rangy 

Not yet a tattooed canvas

And not quite any longer 

A multi-colored, spiky haired punk


Not that you could tell

(from a passing vehicle)

Wrapped in an Army Navy store field jacket

Black, of course, my leather 

with hand painted longhorn skull

Long since abandoned to storage

Or some ex-girlfriend's domestic care


Wouldn't do me any good anyway

The heat of crossing a desert alone

And on foot

equivalent, at least to my urban mindframe,

to walking across a lake of glass on fire

And inside of a microwave oven


I'm going to give y'all 

the benefit of the doubt


It was the  80s on the cusp of the 90s

And maybe you didn't have your internet 

set up right, at that time....

So you couldn't see the injustice

The complete uncaring,

The disregard for your fellow human being


Be he (or she) white, black, brown, yellow, orange, or sun burnt red

Also willing to admit, out on those desert roads, at that time, and unbeknownst to me, 

Most probably trying to hitch a ride outside of multiple maximum security facilities

In my desperate state of being,left the children, in the back of the station wagon,

With eyes full of wonderment

As the ones in the front seat explained

'if you pick up people out here, 

around the prison, 

they might just kill ya!'


Great thing about America,

Land of the free and all, 

There were Park and Rides 

scattered across each state


Used to be called 'rest areas'

Some still are


I promise I won't go off on any half baked concoction of racial or sexual inappropriate touching or thinking or malicious doing 

on my travels across the USA.


When you're traveling through the desert, 

those demons are your own

aka The dark night of the soul

Meaning, 

they are assigned or attracted to you 

for some particular purpose

You're gonna have to work that out

You have to come to terms with those in your own manner and method

And inappropriate time frames


Most of the people who I ran into were kind and considerate or at least thinking

I can't lump them all together

But what I can tell you at this point,

The ones who cared were far 

and few between


Now maybe you've hitchhiked all over

Hell's half acre

Or the devil's collarbone

Or inferno gulch

and you got about a million and a half

 stories that you're willing to tell everybody

Mine is just one

Mine is mine

This is mine

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