• The pines along highway 59
• stretch high through Mississippi
• and on thru Louisiana too,
• again on Texas 105,
• we're driving by it drier,
• a little higher from the ground,
• the sky a beveled crown
• that keeps us feeling still,
• kicked back on the window sill,
• I got the feeling I've seen
• this place before, In Bedford,
• in Beaumont, In Tallahala-
• Cunt Shop, we forgot
• we are still in College Park,
• slipping quick into the stark
• flatness of record drought
• weather and whether or not
• we bust a flat tire, we push
• off the tired and fly
• a second wind, a third one too,
• on thru Louisiana too, 
• again on Texas 105
• we're feeling fine,
• reminded of the time we had
• a time and this time
• we keep on laughing
• back the watch an hour
• for the fuel from Sour Lake
• that bakes us like a biscuit,
• that bigger Texas sun,
• fed on steak and greens
• and come the oil rigs
• all craning necks
• thru the rust, making dust
• out of our lust to push on thru
• the Mississippi pines
• down highway 59,
• stretch sun salutation
• Louisiana mossy fornication
• and sing a drier tune
• to carry us thru the Texas 105.