Freebird rattles the wall in the old garage,
"man, if anybody looks like Abe Lincoln,
its you."
"might taller than me, I expect."
Sex hangs in the air, dripping,
another toke on the homemade bowl,
another drag on the Bud,
I tell her, 'bad Girl,'
rubbing her butt in my face,
Buck and Andy police the fast cars,
rolling in and out.
I walk to the pond
history trailing along,
her absent face,
her hair,
her scent.
I have other chores,
and still a long night ahead.
and I wonder what I've spilled,
having not that honor,
to be with her this night
our glances finding truth
in Franklin County.
Author notes
Written August 15th, 2003
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1 - 8 of 8
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This was one of the ones I was thinking of -- could remember everything except the last stanza.
Morning, Lute.
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i remember certain poems of yours .. for certainreasons. this because of the music, bud and "bad girl"
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It is rather like a photo... seeing one moment in time, and taking what you will away from it.
Nice.
Jade -
yes.... very much like a photograph..... one that seems yellowed on purpose......
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"Sex hangs in the air, dripping."
Very interesting perspective, I must say...
Awesome write! Keep it up!
!~YS4e ~!
Scarlett -
Just a little snippit, like a snapshot... I take it Buck and Andy have traffic detail? ~~~Val
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Intereresting. I'm getting a very good picture of Fayetteville from your poems. LOL
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This is a very interesting piece, which is something I don't say often (and, perhaps, don't mean often!) But I mean it now, none-the-less.
Personally I've always been drawn to poems or other simple literary works that use dialogue in the loose sense you have, with very vague but striking conversation, so laid back and relaxed. Would have been helpful if you included author's comments though. I didn't really pick up on this atall:
Buck and Andy police the fast cars,
rolling in and out.
But hey, that's just me. Good show
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