Even More Buckets to Fill

He’s driven forty miles of tough love, Tempted Dead Man’s curve, Met old Nick at the crossroads, Felt the black tar burn. He took two wrongs, made a right, Circled left on the radio dial, Ran the table by the wayside And got lucky for a while. He bought a peanut shell and jellyfish sandwich From a deli called In Cod We Trust, And a yummy gumshoe cobbler With a crispy asphalt crust. He poured rock candy flaming brandy On a French vanilla traffic cone, Passed the exit ramp for The Next Big Thing And had lunch at the rest stop alone. He’s loaded bucket after bucket full of castle sand And climbed that desolate hill To only dump them out of his attention span And have even more buckets to fill.