02-05-2021, 01:47 AM
Here's a revision.
Any better?
On a road-trip with James in 72
Us in his new Celica, Canada or bust,
We met a band of travellers
in the Uncompaghre wilderness near Ouray,
We shared their campfire
And told stories,
But I remember only one of the group:
His head was held in place
By a steel cage, neck and shoulders encased in plaster,
Like a knight in fragile armor.
He’d broken his neck diving off a cliff
And he had a St Bernard as big as a pony,
Who once won the strongest dog in the world contest.
He took us for a terrifying ride
In a jeep without lights
Through the darkness of midnight mountain trails,
And I was laughing hysterically.
As we left their campfire,
They handed us a paper bag, leftover peyote buttons,
And probably instructed us, I don’t remember.
I do remember the chewing, the swallowing and the vomiting,
Like eating dried up dinosaur skin,
Then each of us sought our sleeping bags,
And lived a night of separate journeys with mescalito
In the unfamiliar Colorado night.
James was pursued by a woman’s lips in his dreams;
My visions, all lost.
At dawn we set out,
Ready to move on from the Magic Mountain,
Came to a cafe,
And a Botticelli angel bearing an orderpad came to our table.
Both our hearts were lifted out of sleep,
One last joy before the miles of asphalt ahead.
Any better?
On a road-trip with James in 72
Us in his new Celica, Canada or bust,
We met a band of travellers
in the Uncompaghre wilderness near Ouray,
We shared their campfire
And told stories,
But I remember only one of the group:
His head was held in place
By a steel cage, neck and shoulders encased in plaster,
Like a knight in fragile armor.
He’d broken his neck diving off a cliff
And he had a St Bernard as big as a pony,
Who once won the strongest dog in the world contest.
He took us for a terrifying ride
In a jeep without lights
Through the darkness of midnight mountain trails,
And I was laughing hysterically.
As we left their campfire,
They handed us a paper bag, leftover peyote buttons,
And probably instructed us, I don’t remember.
I do remember the chewing, the swallowing and the vomiting,
Like eating dried up dinosaur skin,
Then each of us sought our sleeping bags,
And lived a night of separate journeys with mescalito
In the unfamiliar Colorado night.
James was pursued by a woman’s lips in his dreams;
My visions, all lost.
At dawn we set out,
Ready to move on from the Magic Mountain,
Came to a cafe,
And a Botticelli angel bearing an orderpad came to our table.
Both our hearts were lifted out of sleep,
One last joy before the miles of asphalt ahead.