Poets Hitchhiking on the Highway

Of course I tried to tell him but he cranked his head without an excuse. I told him the sky chases the sun And he smiled and said: "What's the use." I was feeling like a demon again So I said: "But the ocean chases the fish." This time he laughed and said: "Suppose the strawberry were pushed into a mountain." After that I knew the war was on-- So we fought: He said: "The apple-cart like a broomstick-angel snaps & splinters old dutch shoes." I said: "Lightning will strike the old oak and free the fumes!" He said: "Mad street with no name." I said: "Bald killer! Bald killer! Bald killer!" He said, getting real mad, "Firestoves! Gas! Couch!" I said, only smiling, "I know God would turn back his head if I sat quietly and thought." We ended by melting away, hating the air! Gregory Corso

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