jam that gas
roar that Nova to life
for we are Americans
nowhere to go
but every way to get there
affirming our lives
under the cool sound
of cylinders
turning that crankshaft 'round
spin it upside down
and we're all in for a treat
a ride to end all rides
no smile could hide
from what we knew
fear becomes a gnat
splat on the windshield
a soul-splitting
teeth-jarring
my life at 105
jettisoning through sunset
after sunset
through pitch darkness of night
until you're pink-eyed madness
calloused hands holding too tight
staring at a new dawn
get the fuck out of my way
cuz i'm american
with more octane than brain
and everyway to get there
about ryan ... under construction The son of IRS bureaucrats, Ryan began life in the Franco-American enclave known as the westside of Manchester, N.H. Though a charming enough lad at first, years of Catholic schooling would literally beat religion and idealism out of him by the end of the Reagan administration. In its place, sprouted a deep appreciation for dark humor, dark beer, dark chocolate and other dark things most Americans find off-putting.
He currently resides in Southern California after a career path that lead him from the heart of Zion through the pickled liver of Sin City. Ryan is employed as a journalist and prone to distraction, forgetfulness and excessive leisure. He has no plans to write a novel, so don't ask him about it.
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