Riders of The Sun
(New Millennium Skater preach off)

Four wheels
One Deck
Riding in the sun
Just for the thrill
Of acing that slab of pavement
Going straight downhill
Racing the elements of gravity
On that bitch of an incline
Going downhill fast
Riding that deck all the way
To the end
Till the wheels on that muthafucka
Start to trip
Making the board shake violently
Making you lose control and slip

Making out with asphalt
On a much personal matter
Breaking bones
Splitting skin en lacerations
the skin
the skull
The bones
The pride of the soul
To keep going on
No matter what people tell you
That skating is bad
That it’s not worth it

Skate till you die
The true skater’s pride
Ride till the wheels fall off



Bukowski and Davis

On a Friday night
In the opening stretch
Of the new found spring
I sat at my big cherry oak desk
Typing away at my pc
Sipping on some merlot wine
Listening to the crazy sounds
Of the early seventies era of
Miles Davis


Thinking of Charles Bukowski
How he might have been
Doing the same thing
On a given Friday night
Staying inside
Staying away from the freaks outside
Drinking fine wine
Getting drunk
And corresponding with people he admired

Thinking how Miles Davis
Was vilified for his new found
Religion of music
How he was criticized
For Live Evil
On the Corner
For changing his role in
The jazz game
Shunned and judged
Like Bukowski
Two greats
Of their time
Both loved and hated
Shunned and disregarded
As fakes and imposters
To the game of talented
Artistic life




© Darrell Glenn