I knew some kids careered round
a small town's streets one Friday night
stoned on acid in somebody's Ford Anglia
argued the colour of the lights & made
corners on two wheels thought
it great fun: the world & death
an entertainment beyond the shared skull
thin skin of glass and tin
I don't need acid to hit
that kind of alienation
all I need is consider
the rush of this junk motorculture
& the geriatric masturbators
sitting rigid at the wheel while
they drive us all through this
one last red light
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