There's still killers on the road Jim

Emerald glass cities       
crashing     
thrashing     
tumbling    
      
all the way down Humpty    
they sent all the Kings horses and men    
b-52 bombers fly overhead    
witches on broomsticks    
      
Erbil    
where men wear      
green windowpane blazers    
grow gentlemen clubs    
the tasteful kind    
      
Echo      
this is Blue leader    
Tango    
Alpha    
Kilo    
November    
Sierra    
enemy armor affirmative      
fire at will    
      
water to throw    
melt      
from skin to liquid    
i take to the streets like      
fly's to white walls    
      
ladies in waiting    
wearing so much makeup    
they're translucent      
when they wipe it off      
after they're dead    
      
aren't you a sight for sore eyes    
      
tonight      
you belong to me    
on sandy beaches    
next to a drift wood fire  
 
embers burning      
in the cracks    
of half blackened wood    
soft      
calm    
cracking of      
blue waves    
black on the night    
naming stars    
but none as beautiful      
or bright as you    
      
black cat      
yellow green eyes    
stares      
as if to stumble    
mumble a message    
 
sung    
from the muscle shoals sound    
on a fence line    
where the first cut is the deepest    
      
a light fog stands over the streets    
hanging on shiny steel trash cans    
faded red stop signs    
plucked    
 
used as sleds when i was a kid    
down hill streets named Dixie      
in south Knoxville    
sparks shooting up    
 
laying down beats    
drips of cough medicine    
we crashed at the bottom in neighbors yards    
shooting seafoam roman candles at each other    
      
i use to skip school    
hang out with my brother    
an abandoned train yard    
gigantic concrete aqueduct pipe    
 
clean    
almost big enough to skate in    
we'd break glass    
lounge in the crook    
dream of what the future would hold    
skim pages of books    
      
i should never of skipped Ms.Christy Cardwells English class    
at Fulton high    
she was the best teacher i ever had    
i had my poetry read for the first time    
in front of peers    
classmates    
      
checkmate life    
your move      
      
smells like chlorine from    
cheap motel pools    
heated    
indoors    
poor family vacations      
in Sevierville and Pigeon Forge    
      
passing an older lady    
sitting down    
smoking under a red porch light    
waiting    
 
morning    
hues of blue    
lemon    
to burst from the horizon    
torch of Hades    
after making deals    
 
trick    
Persephone    
tasting food in the underworld    
passing of a stranger just to carry on the thought of you    
bring on the winter months    
      
i like to look good when i'm getting fucked    
feel the aftershock    
      
looking right    
at a glance    
i'm transported to gardens of olive trees    
in Athens    
 
sun lit slopes on the southern hills    
chimney smoke from adobe houses    
the smell of fresh bread & rolls    
being baked by the batch    
      
was it all a dream    
i remember    
you were all there    
it felt so real    
      
laying down picked white tulips    
the last thing i want to see before i leave this world    
is your face    
your smile