there's a girl laying whiskey
and tap water down
that I wish would
give me 15 Missouri minutes.
here at the delicate wild plum,
don't think you're not getting
a truck driver's portion
of meat or sex.
how did I end up here?
car broke down, sure,
but this museum
is made of only this moment.
the bartender eyes me
suspiciously, while
the girl hums and hopes
that I hear.
some nights you have to wonder
whether this night is the night
on which I die,
death by stabbing.
shiver like the woods
just off the turnpike,
I am a fool,
with Kentucky eyes forever.
an organ donor,
give my eyes to a girl,
and my feet to the wish key kid
playing pool and billowing smoke.
she looks like a Katherine,
and I stand out like a souvenir,
good god I hope murder is not
in my tomorrow morning.
oh well,
my hand reaches for a cig
and I am smoking again,
just like that.