The Dead

lore music and a van

I didn’t grow up on no farm.

You see.

I never been off this reservation.

I was reared in the weeds.

Free range and feral now listen to me.

We’ll shoot him in the back.

You take the silver & the gold, gold, gold.

But the rye & the lady, huh is going with me.

An if that don’t suit you, my brother.

Then I guess nothing will.

And if the thunder doesn’t get you then the lightning sure as hell will.

His corners split skinning teeth.

They looked to me.

Eyes shining like diamonds from the mine.

It’s one-man dead.

Or two men out either way I couldn't do a god damn thing.

Because it’s thirteen hours from here.

Clear to the next state.

That’s where he got rid of skinny teeth.

While he was busy, I made it three.

And it’s been a few years back.

When last I sent his momma roses.

I got an old van and my first nice heels.

With a fine matching set.

Now I’m rolling Midwest thinking about Sunday dinners.

Crying over never settling down.

To a white picket fence.

With a man whose god fearing.

Ramble till I pass away.

I like to think, some sun shiny day.

A kind stranger would foot my burial.

It was east of Indiana when the purse run out.

So, I got a new tattoo on the bridge of my nose.

Along with a dirty face.

But I grin like the devil when I wipe it away.

With an olde black bandanna that I’m given when I come into town.

As of right now I’m thinning down.

My soul drinking swill.

About to hop out again.

Right after I busk the spange.

You might hear it in a song on a stranger's face.

See it written in a story with a different hand. 

I should really put it down in a crusty journal and leave it at lines end.

on the tram.

I'd put smack dab in the middle.

So, the lazy would miss it.

And the nosey would flip to its page.

I wasn't goanna give her name.

.-(Molly No Love)-.

But I didn't grow up on no farm, farm, farm.

Reviews

[NelliKong]

Love your sense of imagery and figures of speech. It was very interesting to read; it left me wanting to read more and see what the next line of the poem entailed.

[Jon R.T.]

HA HA yeah I feel like Molly has more to her story as well.