12MB PDF - Association for Mexican Cave Studies

The Bozo Bus, laid to rustDecays in umber huesThough oxide doth corrupt the fleshThe mettle still shines through.Although the body's bent and cracked,Agape at every seam,Despite the aspect worn and wrackedThe engine block still dreams--Cathy RountreeIt sees the distant winding roadWhere clouds and mountains meetWhere rl0s flow to sotanosTo cut their pathways deep.The carburetor conjures upMemory's fading fumes--Hairpin curves and slip'ry slopesBeneath a blindfish moon.And sometimes in the twilight's gloomOr sunrise's rosy glowSpark plugs sputter out of tuneThis song of joys and woe:"A hundred trips, ten thousand milesI traveled in the causeWith wounds bound up with bailing wireMy body thick with scars.I thrived in times that would have stilledToyotas, Jeeps and RamblersWhen broken glass and airless tiresWere every-day encounters.I carried tons on broken springsAnd pretense of suspensionBrakelines frayed to ragged stringsSustained the deep declinsion.Undaunted til the sudden flipThe final fatal blow--That loosed the engine from its mountOil unstinted flowed.It marked the start of my last tripTracking silent sotanosI was martyred to the undergroundSacrificed by bozos."And then the pistons softly poundA slow and solemn dirgeThat fills the air with mournful soundsAll echoed by the birds.Oh stranger, if you know it notTis a worthy shrine to visitYea, once it was a Mighty BusWith none but Bozos in it.75