A car race between the towns of Hell, Purgatory, Limbo, Climax and Paradise, Michigan |
A weekend get-away determined to Press on Regardless No matter what, or how. We started full of gas With a healthy dose Of spit and vinegar And not just a little fool-hardy glee. April Fool’s Day prank-- Our directions were reversed. Thus we started at the end And began in Paradise. So we traveled against the flow And drove straight into Hell. Two of us in the back of the van Found our own way to pass the time Laughing till tears streamed When those in the front Hollered, "We just got to Climax.” We got lost Just the other side of Limbo. We stopped to ask directions At the Limbo Lower- A combination bar, gas station And stripclub. Two badly bleached, Overly plump and Massively under-dressed Ladies told us to head straight out of dodge And take our first left. Forty-five minutes later We were back in Limbo. Gaunt, black caped gentleman Pointed a gloved finger, Spoke In a hollow voice: Go south when we hit Purgatory. It was a Hell of a journey. No, Not yet It wasn’t. Four souls alone in the dark, No living stream of lights to follow To Paradise: we, lost souls Were headed the other direction. We ran out of gas Just outside of Purgatory. The locals jeered As we walked back to the van Carrying gas cans In the pouring rain. The morning arrived, The sun a fiery ball Swimming in a violet and crimson sea. As We communed Over the last can of Coke, Staring at the bottomless hole where The spare tire should be. Press on; regardless. Through dreaming villages masked By enshrouding fog The road wound down. Four deathly tired, Starving souls Ran gasping Straight into Hell, Michigan. NOTE: The Press On Regardless is a car race between the towns of Hell, Purgatory, Limbo, Climax and Paradise, Michigan |