Somewhere around Barstow, on the long desert road,

The drugs and insanity quite firmly took hold.

It was just as I was driving, my hands on the wheel

When the sky was all filled with a great whooping squeal!

Bats of all colours and all sizes and all shapes,

Great swooping bats with big billowing capes.

Some were biting on one another like cannibals:

“Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”

A voice in the car had just yelled out all that,

The voice in the car yelled out at the bats!

My attorney was pouring a beer on his chest

(In order to facilitate the tanning process).

It was quiet again, but he asked with a shout:

“What the hell are you yelling about?”

It was not a shout, it was more of a mutter

But it is so hard to think with your mind all a clutter!

“Never mind,” I said “It is your turn to drive!”

My mind was all buzzing like the bees in the hive.

The car was all red, like a great powerful shark

I steered it onto the shoulder and I gave it a park.

The bats were still screeching and swooping and hissing

I didn’t tell him a peep, he would hardly keep missing

At almost noon, with many hundreds of miles to go

I knew that the drugs would now start surely to show

We couldn’t break long, we needed to drive further

Drive on and drive on through this great sandy verdure

We had a suite waiting, it was proofed of all sound

I am a professional, so I am legally bound

To file this story of this very great race

To drive in my driver to my reserved place.

My busy bosses had given me a big load of cash,

And with this cash I had made a mighty good stash!

My trunk was full with all the drugs for my pain

Up-uppers and down-downers, a shaker of cocaine

Screamers and laughers and two sacs of grasses

The best type of acid (to get high off our asses!)

A quart of tequila, and another of rum

Some beer and some ether, so we’d never be glum.

We had made our collection all crazed in a frenzies

We went all around to get all of our benzies.

We went all over the county, from Topanga to Watts,

Pasadena and Burbank, every place we had thoughts!

We got all the drugs, more than we could ever need,

But once you’ve started collecting, often greed is the lead.

Joseph Petrosky

Joseph is a homonculus animated by a need to solve mysteries. When no mysteries abound, crude mexican cuisine will frequently suffice. He grew up in a small, Northern Ontario community and is still suffering the consequences. Also, he writes sometimes.