Kerouac - whispers from the road - pt.6
Blue skies from here to eternity. Cold snow fields like white blankets across the horizon. The wind howling a soft serenade. Here I sit inside this black truck with a thermos of oolong tea and a silver plated revolver, heavy on my palm. I sip from one and caress the hardness of the other. The familiar suit feels so good across my bones. What do they say - you can take the boy out of the hood, but you can never take the hood out of the boy. Like a fish to water, like a whore to a cock, like the crack of a whip across an ass. Somethings are just meant to be.
I step outside and feel my nipples hardened. You ever get the feeling of a thousands eyes upon you with no one in sight? I wonder who stares at me with more greed - heavens angels or hells minions. It's an easy coin toss. I hear the unmistakable roar of a 350 engine in the snowflake slaughter distance. Time to play brass knuckle twister.
I step outside and feel my nipples hardened. You ever get the feeling of a thousands eyes upon you with no one in sight? I wonder who stares at me with more greed - heavens angels or hells minions. It's an easy coin toss. I hear the unmistakable roar of a 350 engine in the snowflake slaughter distance. Time to play brass knuckle twister.