The vehicles come wheeling down
The straight road. Sometimes you’ve got To polish your buttons, recognize a field, Undo a centuries-old knot. And if your truck wears out, the clutch gives way, Climb into another truck. You become a better driver, you swear Less, so why be thunderstruck? And if, at night, you see a tree Turn into a giant bat, Or if the sinks and sizzles In the waves, what’s wrong with that? And if you drive a little raggedy Or push those curves on 44, You’re still the same old soul we knew Before you moved to Baltimore.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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October 2019
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