Lincoln Highway Blues

[[ It started with a quote in an article about the Beatles: "At the time I happened to be driving across the country on Interstate 80; in each city where I stopped for gas or food—Laramie, Ogallala, Moline, South Bend—the melodies wafted in from some far-off transistor radio or portable hi-fi. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard." And there are fires now. And Ulysses and Leda peek in. And I took a Google maps trip down that part of the Lincoln Highway (30, not 80). And other stuff. But it's not about the Beatles or any of that other stuff. It is summer + radio + car + open spaces + America in the vaguest sense ]]


we heard you

coming through the radio

we heard you

humming down the wire

we heard your voice.

between the mountains 

when the mountains 

were on fire

we heard you

rolling through the barrio

we heard you

moaning through the wall 

we caught you 

going down ... 

the river 

where the river 

starts to fall

your voice was everywhere all summer 

they had to tie me to the mast  

and when the fever had passed 

I slept into autumn

I slipped into nothing 

I dreamt I was gotten

by something with wings

we heard you all the way 

from Laramie to Cheyenne

we heard you all the way

from Cheyenne to Ogallala 

I believe I fell asleep in Ogallala

and had an awakening in Davenport

we heard  you 

going down ... 

the river 

where the river 

starts to fall

we heard you all the way 

we heard you all the way