A faithful youth
with artificial legs
drove his jalopy
through the towns of Texas.

He got sent out
of the Free Hospital
of Galveston, madtown
on the Gulf of Mexico

after he recovered.
They gave him a car
and a black mongrel;
name was Weakness.

He was a thin kid
with golden hair 
and a frail body
on wire thighs,

who never traveled
and drove northward
timid on the highway
going about twenty.

I hitched a hike
and showed him the road.
I got off at Small Town
and stole his dog.

He tried to drive away,
but lost control,
rode on the pavement
near a garage,

and smashed his doors
and fenders on trees
and parked cars,
and came to a halt.

The Marshal came,
stopping everything
pulled him out
of the wreak cursing.

I watched it all 
from the lunch cart,
holding the dog
with a frayed rope.

“I’m on my own
from the crazyhouse,
Has anybody 
seen my Weakness?”

What are they saying?
“Call up the FBI,
Crazy, ha? What
is he a fairy?

He must do funny
things with women,
we bet he * * *
them in the * * *,”

Poor child meanwhile
collapsed on the ground
with innocent expression
is trying to get up.

Along came a Justice
of the Supreme Court,
barreling through town
in a blue limousine.

He stopped by the crowd
to find out the story,
got out on his pegleg
with an angry smile.

“Don’t you see
he has no legs?
That’s you fools
what crazy means.”

He picked up the boy
up off the ground.
The dog ran to them 
from the lunch cart.

He put them both in
the back seat of his car
and stood in the square
hymning at the crowd.

“Rock rock rock
for the tension
of the people
of the country

rock rock rock
for the craziness
of the people
of America

tension is a rock
and god will
rock our rock

craziness is a rock
and god will
rock our rock

Lord we shall all
be sweet again.”

He showed his wooden leg
to the boy, saying:
“I promise to drive you
home through America.”