Stuck In Needles
Author: Ben Laney


This will be the last time
I travel this highway by thumb
Oh, what was I thinking?
What-ever it was, it was dumb
I'm hungry, I'm thirsty,
I'm tired and I'm dirty, too
My brain cells are melting
Like this black-top that's sticking to my shoes

I'm no Jack Keroac
I don't guess I ever will be
This Mojave Desert
Is broiling the soul out of me
The air is like a furnace
Heat waves are wavin' to the sky
I'm dried out from sweatin'
I'm too dehydrated to cry

The sun is like a heat lamp
The sand feels like shake and bake
Here on this on-ramp
You could barbeque a rattle-snake
My tounge has turned to jerky
I'm standing on french-fried feet
Prayin' I catch a ride
Before my hide is a fricasci

Stuck In Needles
Please, God,
Get me to New Mexico
Stuck In Needles
My body's
Cookin' on this road
Stuck in Needles
Still got about
A thousand miles to go
Stuck in Needles
Please, God,
Get me to New Mexico


Comments on this poem/writing:

Seizure ( -- Wednesday, July 30 2003, 01:47 pm


Hey Ben, what's wrong with the Mojave Desert? When I lived there in southern California it was my favorite place I've ever been, and I've been all over. I'd say being stranded and having to walk in the Mojave Desert would be better than places such as Alabama where the humidity makes it feel much worse and makes the air taste nasty in comparison. And no, the people there don't help you out either... I know that too.

It was well written... just thought I would drop my two cents though... you illustrated your message very well. Good job.
Ben ( -- Wednesday, July 30 2003, 05:15 pm

Yeah, Seizure, the Mojave....

Yeah, Sezure, the Mojave Desert is an awesomely beautiful place! I still love to travel through there, but no more by hitch-hiking!! Ha! Ha! Thanks for your comments, I do appreciate your taking the time!! Your point is well taken! Thanks!
MartinV ( -- Wednesday, July 30 2003, 06:28 pm

Outstanding Poem


I call this an out-standing poem, very, very descriptive, I can feel the heat, see its rays, vibrating from the asphalt, as my source of salvation, goes racing by, in air-conditioned comfort.

You and Seiz are my kind of poet, tell it like it is!

I was raised in El Paso, Texas and know the feel of heat and thirst and hunger yes, I know, I brought it all upon myself. Truly, taking the hard road, teaches us what not to do, yet, new fools, continue on, guess, they can't see our tracks, burnt away, by the hell sent Sun and wind that rips away your skin with sand from earlier fools.

Once the thumb, leaves our mouth, guess we are on our own, I enjoyed the trip, Ben.

Super Poem, Loved it, read it several times.

Stacey ( -- Wednesday, July 30 2003, 07:03 pm


I have to say, the third stanza is my fave.
This poem definitely made me smile.
Thanks !!
Ben ( -- Wednesday, July 30 2003, 10:28 pm

Thanks Stacey and Martin for.....

Thanks Stacey and Martin for your very encouraging words! That it brought a smile is a good feeling to know!! And, Martin, you might check out one of mine called "You're In Texas". And, please, keep in mind that I'M ONLY KIDDING!! Ha! Ha! Thank you again, both of you!!
Name:                                           Remember Me

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