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Show Blue Run/75 good, good day And the fireworks that night, how they burst up over the river bridge and me and Shawn and a few of the Travelers smoked a Cuban cigar with Bill himself Out on the Statehouse lawn about a million Arkansawyers were making a joyful noise, having this party I just can't forget. One hellacious time, for sure, I'm fading now. The endless singing and hugging and kissing-roll out the barrel and we'll have a barrel of fun Somebody from the Democrat-Gazette took my picture in front of the Old State House and the silly thing got printed from here to the moon and back; me in red, holding a thumb with the crazed crowd behind me, the shot catching Shawn in a white shirt and tie, clapping his hands so he looks caught in prayer. The photo was printed in London, Paris, and Rocky Mount, North Carolina. I called O.W. through Iceland Dispatch, and they put me through to the docks in Winston-Salem where he was delivering. "We're winning honey We're going to win!" "I saw your picture," O.W. said, "It's loud there. Are people drunk?" "I said we're going to win!" "I said are people drunk?" For some reason I pictured him sitting in the cab of his truck, the smell of aftershave and diesel, a day's stubble on his face, somebody on the CB radio calling for Roadrunner. Truckstop prostitutes would be knocking door to door. All the bad coffee in the world Burned up brake dust in the air. I was sad for him, that he was no more a part of my world that second than the man in the moon. And even still, I loved him. Have a baby with somebody, two, tell me you don't feel that flesh between you. It's not like a water faucet, turn love on and off "You'd know what drunk people sound like." I said it. "Don't fuck him. You know the deal." |