Outside of Baltimore   I stopped at a liquor store,   to use the telephone,   to see if my wife was home.      I inhaled the rainy spring,   chewed on the raw wind,   dialed my number   and counted the rings.      A bomb went off in the parking lot,   it threw me down, singed my hair,   and shattered the glass of the liquor store.   I saw a gutted van, burning green and gold,   spitting sparks; I thought I saw someone inside.      I stood in shock ‘til the cops rolled up,   they took me in, I was the only witness.   I waited until the Feds arrived:   two men in shades, half my age.      They asked me about Desert Storm,   the Turks, the Kurds, chemical wars.   I told ‘em I only know the road–   I told ‘em I only sold   the Magipeeler, Forever Knives,   the Eternal Dicer, Miracle Slicer.   They said: "You’re not a suspect.   Maybe we’ll keep in touch."