• Matt Smythe

GOD BLESS BLUEGRASS

thank fucking god for that guitar

making the most of his chance in hell

whiskey with two ice cubes

amphetamine fiddle and

impossible banjo run

lightning-strike tiptoes

I can’t hear fast enough

mando and fiddle double-barrel

even the tambourine

jangling its tin cup

another two fingers and two ice cubes

her coal-glow look in the crowded bar

there was no way I could’ve given first

and no way I couldn’t return

lyrics that narrate the rest of my night

right down to shoes under the bed

and the cold gray light of dawn

one more time I nod

whiskey with two ice cubes

because rocks is pretentious

and neat is a shot

let’s be honest

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CORPUS CHRISTI

I wake to the wilderness in her eyes and a futile wish for cool air from the ceiling fan. Morning coffee and a cigarette on the porch. Shafts of sun and smoke tendrils. The coffee still too hot to sip

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© 2017 By Matt Smythe