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.
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