Veneer

Thirteen miles on 31 are dryingAll along adopt-a-highway lay the empty cans ofMasqueradeThirteen miles on 31 are dryingThe sky is lavender with ivory clouds that threatenDrops of finger paintsPuddle jumping children cladIn yellow raincoats splash the deeperPurple of veneerRows and rows of animals, their shiver skinIs painted different shadesAnd from grazing painted grass their teethAre stained the incandescent greenIndifferent they watch the rainfall steadyBlend their spots and run their stripesOf veneerLovely ladies strip themselves of furs the winds requireLovely ladies bathe themselves in technicolor mireLovely gentlemenAt 85 on 31 I'm flyingFlying