Feed

Big Star for breakfast
Uncle Tupelo for lunch
A.A. Bondy happy hour
fingernails and ‘Mats

a lousy dinner
so many songs
to love under
the covers overnight

I am no December boy
not your butch
never loved
a September gurl

I am a December boy
from another century

“I take out my heart . . .
fire it from a cannon”

a free for all
on a roadblocked main drag
cyclists and pedestrians
take over civil twilight

“no race is run
in this direction”

high water warnings
on the horizon
I know the river’s swelling
better than my own palms.

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