My idea of heaven: I enjoy the fixing of a flat tire. I like art made of garbage. A little pain is good for you. I don't want everything to be made easy for me. Fast ain't always better than slow, you know. A homerun every time would start to get boring after awhile. I hope I never forget how to bleed. Static, fuzz, hiss: it's just the thing sometimes. A 50 gallon drum, that's what I'm talking about. Give me a hundred bucks to work on your bike and maybe I'll cut your hair for you while I'm at it. I wanna work. I'm ready. I wanna take my baby dancing. Scary movies on a Monday morning. Chopping some wood. Wind in my tires. Chocolate chip cookies. Rain on the window. It's the underneath of Paris. It's New York City from the back. Mount Uniacke in the fall. In a moment between heartbeats, I'll set fire to the sky or cut the devil's throat. I'm three for four with a double and two stolen bases. Having my picture taken with the Amazing Kreskin. It's a shiny day and the dog shit smells like strawberries. I found a shoebox filled with Viewmaster reels. I don't have to cut my hair or do math ever again if I don't want to. Tell the bounty collectors to kiss my ass. I'm a hunter-gatherer, surveying the junkyards. Warrior monk with a month-long bus pass. Odd job Casanova. I write nothing down and keep my clothes in a guitar case. I run with the bulls and swim with the pool sharks.
Perfection is a place where there are two-for-one milkshakes on Tuesdays. It's where you can pay for a room with your good looks. The ballparks are always busy and the umps always make the right call. Everyday is Halloween and people use plastic Christmas trees. They fight with their fists and go to drive-in movies. There's no such thing as luck, or the dentist, and shoes don't hurt your feet. I keep a lighter and dog treats in my pockets at all times, because you never know. I've got a Saint Francis of Assisi keychain and a wallet made of Corinthian leather. Sometimes I drive all night and listen to talk radio. Sometimes I practice scratching for hours on end. But usually, I sit in the window and listen to my tapes. I've got all kinds of tapes. Hugs and kisses and treats in a bag. In paradise, a buck will buy you a comic book, a soda, and a candy bar. You can always find a place to park, or to hide. The DJs only play originals, and the theatres still have silver screens and Buster Keaton matinees. I'm an outlaw faith healer with sock monkeys for the kids. I'm the ringmaster king of the convenience store parking lot. My show is an every man for himself freak-fest. Pack a lunch and ask for Johnny Rockwell. Here, your favorite pen works forever, but memory is parallax.
It's 70's doing 20's, 50's doing 2000. Everyone's got their own arrow, and there ain't no short-handled shovels. It's under my pillow. It's tomorrow and the next day.
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