Tom Waits sets out on the day and he takes big strides and his shadow is under its feet where it belongs. He feels like singing Joe Liggins' "Going Back to New Orleans" but when he opens his mouth a beetle flies in. He spits out crow feathers and puts them in his pocket.
[...]He takes a whole box of shells and scatters them over the furrowed field. There'll be a stand of scarecrows there by October, and they'll all talk like him and sleep in his hat.
He walks into town and sets his watch by the broken clock in the town square. He stops for coffee and donuts and his waitress brings him one named Cherry Vanilla. He reads the news and drinks his coffee. When he's done, he folds the paper until it's small, and he swears to Jesus over the little container of mixed berry jam, but he gets it open. Jesus helps with the big jams and the little jams. He spreads it on the enfolded news and washes it down with the last bit of coffee. A lot goes into Tom Waits.
He sets out into the afternoon and he takes long strides, and he leaves the town behind. He steps over cars until he finds a field without cars. He sits in the bucket seat of an old Corvette and dreams in the heat of the day with his eyes wide open. He steals a spider web and puts it in his pocket.
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