The New Quixotics
We embark, dark midnight,
With trunk lock stock and barreled tight.
North toward red shored island
Where car sleep eyes make silence.
O that futile fight rages on into the rainy night.
To bridge we pass from highway;
Sling Sebring cross ocean blue.
And honey if you’re looking my way
Chances are I was just looking your way too.
They spun without a hiss
Into the milky morning mist.
Be not afraid love.
Our fight cannot be with these
Gentle creatures of the breeze.
Turn around love.
For here progress is a word
That you can say without reserve.
Be still love for these may just be the best that we can give right now.
From North Cape confrontations to
Genesis-style precipitations I would rather be nowhere
But standing with you shoulder to shoulder
Until the cold rain soaked right through the bone.
But then through the clouds a crack
Of sunlight touched upon our backs.
Turn around love.
Run west toward the cliff
And if we hurry we might lift
The sun from sinking.
And on the way I realized
There’s something more here in disguise.
Be still love for these may just be the best times of my life.
We are the New Quixotics,
Weaving trails chaotic.
In north Prince Edward Island
DLCJ has got it covered.
In red rust paint quagmires
Spun our rented tires.
But we will never tire
Of memory quagmires.
