rusted shells on wheels
crumbling filling stations
prosperity in rigor mortis

faded paint ads
drink coca-cola
town square red brick

dreams tumble down the street
like a used wal-mart bag
headed out of town

a forgotten steel marker
out on the mill road
the last reminder

he stopped here
to check on them
motor trouble, maybe

a life given
small town innocence
left to die in the ditch

a blood soaked badge
his gun never drawn
recognition, a moment too late

young lovers
just passing through
reviled yet revered

regret without remorse
hurtling toward another death
sweet revenge of the law

lives lived in vain
unused love, knowledge wasted
only to supply fascination

O death, you perfect prophet
not eluded by man or epoch
life itself is your nourishment

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