Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?

Oh, to pick a spot so random,images
And go at it with sheer abandon,
May have had teenagers dreaming,
But now takes on a different meaning.

Of prospective bruises and taking a chance,
On literally having ants in your pants,
Discomfort in a head that knocks,
Against various pebbles and rocks.

And for what took less than a quarter hour,
There are still remnants after days of showers,
And I find it all a bit uncanny,
How it found it’s way into every nook and cranny.

But I suppose I’d have to do,
With such bragging rights at 42,
And though Paul McCartney is lovely, he too is old,
And I wonder if he’d still do it in the road.

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38 thoughts on “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?

    • Hope I didn’t ruin it for you Rob! Actually, for me, I don’t think I ever listened to this song without thinking that. It just took this writing prompt to ‘vocalize’ that point.

  1. My brother is a Beatles fanatic. I do not EVER remember this song. And now I don’t want to go listen to it because I will be thinking of old butts in the road. Not an image I want. I don’t care who they are! ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • Thanks Colleen. I completely agree. Actually, this song is a lesser known one and kind of disappointing. The only lyrics being:
      “Why don’t we do it in the road” (ad infinitum)
      (interspersed with an occasional)
      “No one will be watching us”
      (which is highly unlikely)
      All this set to a predictable blues rhythm. Possibly it’s only saving grace is Paul’s incredible voice. There, I’ve spared you the trouble!

  2. When I was 64
    I asked for more
    Of that Road
    My seed got sowed.

    Ah, those were the days
    Of my funky ways.
    My love was pure
    But I paid, oh sure,

    With bruises
    Up the cabooses
    And oh the wounds
    On this buffoon

    Who did his best
    And passed the test
    Of love and more
    When he was 64.

  3. There are so many places to do it that are better in theory than in practice: beaches, showers, back seats of cars. I think it’s time we take a stand as a society and shoot these falsehoods down dead. Loved your poem, especially the subtle rip on the quarter-hour suitor!

  4. Love this stanza, quite possibly because I understand it so well:

    Of prospective bruises and taking a chance,
    On literally having ants in your pants,
    Discomfort in a head that knocks,
    Against various pebbles and rocks.

  5. Don’t know if it’s where my no-sleep addled brain is, but the first few times I read this I didn’t connect the title at all. It seemed very mysterious meditation on a theme of growing old. Then I thought something on a Beatles theme, then finally figured out. Fun reading experience ๐Ÿ™‚

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