Out on Steamerhead road
the sun burning there
too bright to see
the awesome heat tears at me
out on Steamerhead road
I find myself lost
dust
dust and gravel
on the side of the road
Steamerhead road
and I am alone
the summer stinks
but it is beautiful
fragrant
out on Steamerhead road
steam pours from under the hood
the old beast couldn't take it
any longer
there is a pistol in the glove-box
the heat is too intense
I might do something foolish
out on Steamerhead road
but, how may others
have lived this exact scenario,
in this exact location,
so many times,
out on Steamerhead road?
There is a pistol in the glove-box
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem