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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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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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