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Growing Up
At 10 years old, I sat in VFW's and Legion Posts
breathing smoke by the lung-full
and watching broken old men
pouring cheap drinks
and talking bullshit at
cheap women.
They played the illegal slot machines
threw darts, and hustled pool
and there were plenty of scarred faces
and tattoo-covered limbs.
Occasionally, they would argue some inane point
and two guys would square in the parking lot
but that was rare.
Some of them would stagger home
long before me
and walk out the door to calls of
'Stay out of trouble' and 'Careful, brother'
and I knew that in their houses
there were the same cheap cigarettes
and strong tasteless drinks
and I began to understand
why they came every night to eat the grease
and tell lies, and hit on girls wearing red heels
with too-tight American flag halter-tops
Home away from home
for them and me.
We didn't have cheap cigarettes or strong drinks in my house;
we came to the bar for that
and to be honest
I always though those guys were okay
even then,
when I was young.
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| I smell buk. |
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Comment by: - 2006-10-04 07:02
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Right now I'm sitting in Jan Pearce's class, she's talking way to loudly. I know she's not an idiot, but it's hard not to think it. Well, I like this writing of yours. A lot of "visuals". I really like "Stay out of trouble" and "Careful brother". You've got rythm. Ooooh yeah.
Later friend,
Cody |
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