Robert and Richard and Me

Me and Robert Zimmerman

Were cruising down the road

We were toking on a number

Thinking life ain’t that damned hard

 

The highway sign read 61

The scenery traveled fast

We rolled along on balding tires

With half a tank of gas

 

When we hit the railroad tracks

There wasn’t any blood

But leaning on the crossing gate

Was the strongest smelling dude

 

He was an old hitchhiker

With a big hole in his head

He was holding up a sign

For the Tokyo-Montana Express

 

We had to stop and pick him up

Despite that fishy smell

He asked us, “Where you going?”

I said, “We’re headed straight to Hell”

 

He said, “Now wait a minute

I’ve just got to plant this book

Then I’ll take that ride you’re offering

You’ve got me on the hook”

 

He took a trout out of his heart

With which to dig a hole

On boots of Spanish leather

He proceeded up the knoll

 

At Maggie’s Farm he buried

His seed into the earth

“The time is right,” was all he said

“To mix sentences with dirt”

 

Then he flew back on a hurricane

Sailing like the Mighty Quinn

So the wind won’t blow it all away

Let’s pray for a hard rain

 

Now Bobby looked me in the eye

He said, “This cat is something odd

He don’t seem quite schizophrenic  

Maybe a little more like God

 

“Where’d he get that getup

Down at the Eberhard’s?

Make that Mark Twain high on acid

With a beat up fishing rod

 

“And how about that funky hat?  

Wait it looks a bit like mine.

Except that color’s close to cloudy

As watermelon sugar wine”

 

That strange stranger looked us up and down

He never missed a beat

He said, “I figured 90 miles an hour

Down a dead end fucking street

 

“You don’t look like the conductor

And you, you’re not the engineer

And you’re sitting mighty close together

Are you sure you two ain’t…?

(Well, you know…)

 

“But won’t you take me with you?  

I need a place to sleep

And there’s still a little room left

On that motorcycle seat”

 

My mind was set to reeling

My tongue had ceased to work

Making sense was not as easy as

Loading mercury with a fork

 

I merely smiled and patted

The leather behind me

For all I knew that hitchhiker

Was the man from Galilee

 

He said, “Now don’t you worry

I suppose I’m not the same

With electroshock and bullet

My mind’s been rearranged”

 

He swung his leg on up and over

And settled behind me

He asked for introductions

As Bob was wheeling free

 

I said, “I am a druid

My friend’s a Christian Jew

Now you know us well enough

Tell us about you”

 

He said, “I guess you’ll find out soon enough

‘Cause it’s blowing in the wind

You can call me Richard…

Brautigan that is”

 

 

Thomas Hubbard (10/16/2007)

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