This poem is called Trucker's Coffee: the Legend of Highway 17B.
I was driving down the highway past 17B
Sipping trucker's coffee from Teke & V's
Pulling a bedful of apples due for lumber land
Not a care in the world, just time on my hands
So I pulled into another truck stop, in some tiny town
And saw four hitchhikers not making a sound
They were dressed like hippies, from another time
But acting like mimes, flashing silent peace signs
Although these kids bugged me, I knew I'd give 'em a ride
And at the checkout counter I pulled one aside
But he just tossed me a travel mug and started to laugh
A silent laugh, like mimes when they laugh
And that mime stuff was getting a little bit tired
When the three other hippies waved me outside
And I couldn't believe what I saw with my eyes
In the parking lot stood twenty glowing semis
It was a hippie truck convention, all crazy with lights
Swirling all around like Biology slides
All the kids were so silent, they made not a sound
Even as the semis all bounced up and down
There was a Kenworth rig all done up in orange
Like the Ken Keysey bus with kids on the door hinge
There was a Peterbilt tanker poppin' wheelies and leaking
Some kind of Kool-Aid from a hole in the ceiling
One truck was on fire and spinning around
Some praying hippies kneeling on the ground
"This dream sequence is over!" I declared, "And I need a buck.
I gotta deliver these apples," and I jumped back in my truck
I was then heading back down highway 17
Thinking about the hippies and the stuff I'd just seen
Back to Teke & V's just to have another cup
And I told them about the truck stop just a few miles up
Now Teke just started laughing, but V had to explain
He said "Son, you've been through Bethel, let me tell you 'bout the rain
See, a few years back they had a big rock show
And half the hippies living said they had to go
Some say something slipped into our water supply
And every now and then, when our well gets dry
We might get a taste of some hippie brew
But it's in the well water, and there's nothing to do
So it gets in our coffee, and every couple of nights
You might see a mirage or run a red light"
"So that was just a dream?" I said disbelieving
"What about this travel mug?" I pulled out from my sleeve
"Oh, that's your souvenir," he said with a grin
But I wouldn't use it unless you're tucked in
'Cause you don't know what'll happen or what you will see
Drinking trucker's coffee on highway 17B"