written by: Pilgrim
Secret messages tap along the chrome bar. Press your ears to it- you will hear.
That car just pulled in, hood down, was here yesterday.
tap, tap-tap, t-t-tap tap
Yew wan’ a corfeee?
Ssh, I’m listening, you said
tap tap tap
Hey Mistah. Hey Mistah!
Your breath clouds the shining chrome.
Hey Mistah, get orfa my car.
How do they make the metal shine so?
Because it is glass filled with mercury.
You order that corfeee.
You slide across the leather seat to the window, wind it down.
Pulling into a roadside diner the neon catches your eye, catches your eye.
You couldn’t see, it blinded you.
Your chrome fender hit the soft head- dead.