La Mort de Claudia

Drive me up the wall;
In your Dodge Lancer
At the Kwik Shop
You get yourself a beer,
The back seat's full of panties,
All kinds, patterns, colors,
The slant six coughing onto the street
Heading out to Dodge City,
Running down the Santa Fe,
Watching the blades of the Tallgrass
Catch the wind,
Dodging ring-necked pheasant at dusk,
Skirting the south edge of Hutch
Past the salt mines and Cosmosphere,
Driving into the stench of oilfield residue,
Got to get there,
Where the Koch brothers make nitrogen,
Got to get there,
Where the wind towers at Spearville
Blow their red-eyed spewage to Johnson County,
Got to get there to meet up with McGill,
Who tells lies up on Boot Hill,
That it’s his kin that lies there,
Stop in at Doc Holliday’s Liquor Store,
Shell casings in the parking lot
From yesterday’s high noon,
Pick up a bottle of Cherry Boone’s Farm,
Then it's out to the Clutter Ranch,
Leading Herbert down the stairs to
Room 204 at the Dodge House,
Lying in the Jacuzzi,
Hand dripping blood
From the quill pen,
Looking like Marat,
Were you so unhappy
That you could not deserve
My kindness?