Speed Trap

[couchgrouch]

Speed TrapIf Dad wasn't a moonshiner, we'd have starved to deathso the wind in those mountains, had whiskey on its breathand I bought a trailer, on the borderlineword hit the biker taverns, I made modern moonshinejust a week's worth of crystal, filled a boxspring fulla cashit didn't seem that diff'rent, from my dad's sourmashbut his buyers were farmers, even a judge or twomine were cutthroats and militia, and I'd stepped intoa speed trap, I was caught in its steel jawsand like a wolf in the wild, I'd hafta chew through my pawthose bikers were tweeking, waving semis in the airlaughing about some robb'ry, hundred thou a sharethey hit the First National, nerves jacked fulla my cranktwo dead guards and a teller, when they left that bankwell, I once shot a rattler, clean through the headbut his tail kept shakin', after he was deadso I could fold my business, pack up and move onbut even if I killed my profits, the guilt'd live onit was a speed trap, I was caught in its steel jawsand like a wolf in the wild, I'd hafta chew through my pawI cradled a sawed-off, just myself to blameguilt treats a night's sleep, like buckshot treats a brainI fingered that trigger, sitting there alonethinking over my options, looking at the phonethe next time they came by, the law staged a raidthose bikers would've cut me, if they knew the call I'd madeso I pleaded guilty, iron doors slammed behind mebut five years in prison, was the best way to get freeof a speed trap, I was caught in its steel jawsand like a wolf in the wild, I had to chew through my paw(c)2004 Robert George