I collapsed on Rue Coloniale and wondered what to do
So I took a hint from the weeds and sat next to my stoop
Agoraphobia ain't no job, it's a calling
A calling to spend two hours a day staring at wainscotting.

If there's one thing that stays true in these modern times
It's amazing what you can do with your mind
Put your thoughts through a sieve for your security
Or quickly remedy your chronic lack of company


This is a weird fuckin' verse
This is a verse about one David Himillsy Dodd resident of May's Landing NJ in his attempt to be the first person to bike the Chesapeake Bay-Bridge tunnel. But early on he encountered a problem: to have a goal required an objective, an objective required an object and he did not wish to engage in the process of reification with one of the most important taxpayer-funded transit arterials of the Delmarva Peninsula region.
Undaunted, he left his home outside May's Landing, NJ, cycled down the turnpike, crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge south of Philadelphia, crossed the entirety of the great state of Delaware and arrived at the entrance of the aforementioned bridge-tunnel complex which was originally designed to provide an efficient trucking route from the Norfolk-Hampton Roads metropolitan area to points north of the Delaware Valley while avoiding the congestion that characterizes the Baltimore-Washington conurbation but which has instead led to the creation of a number of bedroom communities in the southern portion of the Virginia peninsula.

Was it like
something taken
rarely given
but in trust?

Or was
It more like
an exchange
between
two equal
parties
what was
the nature?