5 A.M. oil pressure's sinkin' fast
I make a pit stop wipe the windshield check the gas
Gotta call my baby on the telephone
Let her know that her daddy's comin' on home
Sit tight little mamma I'm commin' round I got 3 more hours but I'm coverin' ground

Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours

sun's just a red ball risin' over them refinery towers
Radio's jammed up with gospel stations

 lost souls

 callin'

long distance salvation
Hey mr. deejay woncha hear my last prayer

hey ho rock 'n roll

deliver me

from

 nowhere 

(open all night -b.springsteen)

 new jersey

march 2013

 

More Mail Art I've Sent:

Myrtle Beach,

South Carolina

 

He's lying on the double bed acting self assured
in his t-shirt and his underwear he's barely said a word
she pours a cup of coffee lights the day's first cigarette
picks up the phone and calls her kids from the motel kitchenette
from "Camelot Motel"

by

Mary Gauthier / Kerri Powers

New York, March 2013.

 

Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty
Thrill me

chill me

 fulfill me
Creature of the night.

 

 

 Then if anything grows while you pose
I'll oil you up and rub you down
And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction

 You need a friendly hand and I need action...

Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty
Thrill me

chill me

fulfill me
Creature of the night.

 

("Touch-a Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me",

 Rocky Horror Picture Show, Richard O'Brien) 

 empty rooms

 saint Petersburg,

fla.

MORE MAIL-Art I've sent:

tobacco barns

near Windsor,

north carolina

 

I was born in a lump,
 mama died and daddy got drunk.
Left me here to die or grow in the middle of Tobacco Road.
Grew up in a rusty shack,
 all I owned was a hangin' on my back,
Only Lord knows how I loathe this place called Tobacco Road.
But it's home,
 the only life I've ever ever knowed,
But the Lord knows I loathe Tobacco Road.

Gonna leave.
 get a job,
 with the help and the grace of God.
Save my money,
 get rich,
 I know bring it back to Tobacco Road
Bring dynamite and a crane,
 blow it up and start all over again
Build a town,
 be proud,
 to show keep the name
 Tobacco Road.
Cause it's home,
 the only life I've ever ever knowed
I despite you cause,
 you're filthy but I love you
cause you're home.
-Tobacco Road, by John D.Loudermilk.

MORE MAIL-Art

a trailer park in Bowling Green

Florida

RED RUM



Motor Court, near Tampa, Florida:

 

She packed her bags
and with a Wyomie County real estate man
She ran down to Tampa
In and "El Dorado Grande"
She wrote back home, "Dear Mama
Life is just heaven in the sun
From small things, mama
Big things one day come"

 

Well she shot him dead
On a sunny Florida road
When they caught her all she said
Was she couldn't stand the way he drove.

(Bruce Springsteen)