I Talk Bitumen

I Talk Bitumen

The bitumen calls a long journey home
From one side of country to the other
Up and down the coast, inland, overland
Never ending is the weaving black top

One lane, two lane, four lane, eight
One way, two way, this way, that

I count the white lines at 100 k per hour
Keeping together the speed of mind and car
At night time, guide posts flash bloodshot eyes
Guiding the night time highway travellers

Trouble can start with a stone and a drop of rain
A small hole you can drive around, then growing
Swerve, brake, thud, bang, clang, shudder
It ends with a fright when the tyre blows

One lane, two lane, four lane, eight
One way, two way, this way, that

Beyond the black stump, on really hot days
Bitumen melts and lizard like flicks the cars
It doesn’t matter what you’re driving, FX or VP
You all get mud, dust or bitumen in the end

The long skid marks, the donuts, they all talk
Sometimes the stories are loud and happy
Sometimes they are just quiet and sad
Country road or city street lies there with indifference

To wonder if it feels the 34 wheeler trundle
Loaded to the hilt travelling day and night
Does it hear the roar of the 350 cubic inch
Or feel the hot black rubber laid upon its skin

One lane, two lane, four lane, eight
One way, two way, this way, that

I Talk Bitumen

Tony Mutton

Brisbane, Australia

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