The girls swept the porch
in a frenzied waltz,
while the ” touched” man,
stained and bruised,
clapped.
The spectacle that was the murdered dog,
shot through a dozen times,
dragged through town,
was politely discussed.
Hushed tones, cracked lips ,
gnarled handed, cafe lattes.
The ghost of Johnny Cash
passed through the room.
Ask the blind girl,
she saw it all.
I enjoyed this one. Very nice.
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