TAXI.com

Lake TahoeThat judge said I had two strikes, I'd better not swing againor it'd be thirty, in a California penso I left LA, where buildings stand too highdrove north in a fast car, where the sun's not a guest starin its own skyI wound up in west Tahoe, in a shoreside cafejust a ham n egger, where moonlight was a daggerfloating on the lakeI looked out and remembered, when mem'ries are two-faced clocksyou look back in sorrow, while all your tomorrowsjust lay there and rotI saw how blind regretwas like the unseen dividebetween the Californiaand the gambling sideof Lake TahoeI pounded some catsup, on my sausage linksand watched a purty waitress, haul dishes to the sinkshe wore an old t-shirt, with the Rolling Stones' lipsborn in south Texas, her laugh was infectiousher apron jangled with tipssome guy yelled at that waitress, mad about his checkhis face was cratered, like an old cheese graterand he grabbed her by the neckhe left on a stretcher, they read me my rightsno legal jargon, no plea bargainthat was my final strikehalf the things I've doneI didn't mean to dobut risking it allsplits me in twolike Lake TahoeI looked at the DA, while she read my reportthen my mind walked a pathway, it had been beforeit led to reasons, that made me wanna fighta shack on the panhandle, where my father manhandledmy poor ma ev'ry nightthough I expected no mercy, from that starchy DAdressed in Prada and Gucci, suppers of champagne n sushishe let me go that dayoutside the jailhouse, I asked why she turned me loosewhen I wouldn't back down, she pulled her turtleneck downand showed me a purple bruisethere are shadows of the heartwhere shame and pain often hideit seems her shiny lifehad a darker sidelike Lake Tahoe(c)2005 Robert George