like 6 rodeos,
whispered gossip
around town,
from donkey lips
to ladies' hips.
picture the night time
and that will help,
no soundtrack,
just mosquitoes.
my back hurts from
carrying boxes
and broads
and a bunch of books.
the library is late,
and I got a bucket
to sit on
when I whittle
while watching
the world.
practice me,
t-shirt ripped,
and I think I'll be
one of those corner
of their eyes types.
I forget what I was talking about,
goddamn it.