Eureka! Poem by Jerry Ratch

To get there we had to fly up on a United Airlines crop duster
with two cocktails and a basket of desiccated crickets for snacks

Instead of landing they pushed us off the wingtips
strapped to parachutes, but it wasn’t so bad
since we were going REAL SLOW, as if in a dream
over pastures filled with cows, giant thinning redwoods
and dense crops of weed with armed guards around them

After touching down we dusted ourselves off
and rented a 1959 Plymouth from an outfit named
Rent-a-Wreck, because no one would pick up hitch-hikers anymore
Things just weren’t the same
We might have been stuck in a time warp
somewhere between the Summer of Love
and the Winter of Our Discontent

When we got to town, I wrote this song at Bev’s Café
after a group of motorcyclists came in and
ordered everything on the menu containing pork:

I’m a porker through and through
I eat bacon, pork rinds too
I eat pork chops, ham and ribs
I ride Harleys, I tell fibs
I’m a porker, yes it’s true
I’m a porker through and through

I was trying to be one of them
Kenny Rogers was in town playing a concert
and the bikers came from miles around to hear him

Apparently they follow him all over the country
It makes a real spectacle everywhere they go
cutting a large swath through all the pig pastures

If you happen to be pink, I’d recommend
not getting in their way. It could get ugly