Savage Garden

A hot sun beat down on

Our plastic coated all American dream machine

Complete with blown speakers and flaking paint

Surrounded on all sides by our fellow

Human species

 

Trapped in a concrete artery

Lined with capillary distractions

 

We were wasting away into the seats

Slowly becoming puddles resting on air puffed cushions

Trapped behind some perilous clot

Bringing all traffic to a sickening halt

 

At this rate the city

The heart of their destination

Was going to wither

 

They were going to be late

 

And she was taking off her clothes in the back seat

While the j man held up a towel to hide her

 

So I did the most rational thing

I took one huge hit from the pipe we were passing

Found the cassette we dropped seventy five cents on

And started yelling out the window

 

“Hey fatty! Yeah you! Do you want savage garden?”

But of course the rest of civilization

Wants nothing to do with

The threat of youth

 

So I gave the Capitan of the dream machine

An order along the lines of

“Get us the f**k off the street!”

And he was more than happy to pull

Into the shoulder and pass

All of the clot

 

So we diverted into the veins of the city

Away from the clogged artery

Or perhaps this was closer to a ruptured vessel

It was like we wandered into the bruised section of town

Everything here was damaged and littered

And it still felt more welcome

Than where I was going to have to return to

 

So I returned to trying to ditch the

Worthless cassette to any poor soul that

Happened to cross my path

 

Harassment was my introduction

And this was the only thing I had to offer

So I decided that everyone and anyone

Needed to be in possession of this

Terrible band

 

The fact that we were going to be late meant nothing to me

Or the rest of us because we were free

We were high

And there was no one that was going to stop

The Capitan, the J. man the naked lady , and me

But she had her clothes back on

And we had finally managed to

Find a clear path to our destination

 

Not that it mattered when we arrived

They told us to leave

We weren’t needed

 

So we resumed the quest to abandon an album

Locate a tuxedo for no reason

And kill the time in the most irrational way possible

 

The populace was good to me that day

A balding mustachioed man

Told me he hated savage garden

But bummed me a cigarette instead

 

And finally as the sun was setting

I found a lonesome teen

Standing on the corner

 

So of course I asked

“Hey! Hey buddy! Do you want savage garden?”

To which he said, “Sure!”

So I threw it at him

As the Capitan stomped the gas

And she flashed him from the back seat

And the J man loaded the piece

 

It was so much better than being home

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

Good story, echoes of Kerouac, lots of slang and authentic, clever observations, good writing.