deepundergroundpoetry.com
red sticks
old grey cat
after winter fears that sunshine more
more blood to take back home
scraps to get back underneath the porch
been waiting around to die
longer than i been drinking wine
ain't no animal control for this kind
we just kill each other
slap high fives
here in baton rouge
how many screams and cries
when the well runs low
we bath in cancer
sip eye for an eye and stay on the couch
shadows dance on concrete and hollows
from here to the mississippi line
the first wise man since my father died
was picking his feet next to me
bound to the floor
below the county courthouse
here in baton rouge
i hope they like banjo where the sun goes
lil lady named lullaby
in the cell across the way
been 25 for the past ten years
barroom brawls over arguments-southern politics
but not until after they called off singing time
i hear she use to dance at dixie mafia shindigs
till they beat her down when a lieutenant
couldn't get it hard
new orleans got a taste before she was through
that town hit her harder
then having to say her birthday out loud
to the guard in intake
plans on wasting time with me
when nothing sounds pretty
and nothing left to lose
once we get back to baton rouge
we were all someplace else
before we got here
townes van zandt
where the hell were you?
when the laces broke in these dirty ol shoes
in baton rouge
after winter fears that sunshine more
more blood to take back home
scraps to get back underneath the porch
been waiting around to die
longer than i been drinking wine
ain't no animal control for this kind
we just kill each other
slap high fives
here in baton rouge
how many screams and cries
when the well runs low
we bath in cancer
sip eye for an eye and stay on the couch
shadows dance on concrete and hollows
from here to the mississippi line
the first wise man since my father died
was picking his feet next to me
bound to the floor
below the county courthouse
here in baton rouge
i hope they like banjo where the sun goes
lil lady named lullaby
in the cell across the way
been 25 for the past ten years
barroom brawls over arguments-southern politics
but not until after they called off singing time
i hear she use to dance at dixie mafia shindigs
till they beat her down when a lieutenant
couldn't get it hard
new orleans got a taste before she was through
that town hit her harder
then having to say her birthday out loud
to the guard in intake
plans on wasting time with me
when nothing sounds pretty
and nothing left to lose
once we get back to baton rouge
we were all someplace else
before we got here
townes van zandt
where the hell were you?
when the laces broke in these dirty ol shoes
in baton rouge
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