even after the old man left.
burned down the farm
headed to the mountains
full of bad memories and liquor.
my father’s curse,
a pile of debris
left now to rats and squirrels.
Leave a comment
Filed under Outlaw poetry, poetry
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 1,111 other followers