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Cranshaw on the Road / Chapel Access


by Bill Yarrow


CRANSHAW ON THE ROAD

"Every tunnel's a piercing, every road's
a tattoo. The billboards are wrinkles,
road signs are scars. I saw eternity
last night wearing a sarong and smoking
a cigar." Jaysus Chrysalis! Who does
this guy think he is? Marty muttered
and glared at the broken line that stuttered
in front of him. Madeleine in the back seat
touched him on the neck. "Why so ornery?"
Why? Why??? "Hey, lighten up. It's a long ride."
Marty snarled. Snake belt! Zebra suspenders!
Alligator hat! His very being offends me.
The guy's a veritable catastrophe of badness.
"What's that? Did you say something, asshole?"


CHAPEL ACCESS

Every tunnel's a piercing, every road's a tattoo.
The billboards are wrinkles, road signs are scars.
Cranshaw said he saw eternity last night
wearing a sarong and smoking a cigar.
“You're full of it, Cranshaw,” I said
and stared at the fraudulent broken line
that stuttered in front of me. Madeleine
in the back seat touched me on the neck.
"Why so ornery?" she asked. "Why? 
2008. 2009. 2010. That's why," I snarled.
What was eating me? Continental drift. Urban
sprawl. Cranshaw! His smarmy teeth and
mildew jitterbug. His checked suspenders
and dragonfly belt. 2011. Maybe everything.
Endcap