He stammered hard into the metal gate.
A droplet of blood beaded and fell from his brow.
was she worth it?
Not in the morning swollen and resentful.
Are they ever worth it?
Maybe once when he was young.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- Dale Hunt
- He's become comfortable in that ol' civil war jacket. What would compliment that mess of hair? A sage cigarette, a bottle in his hand and a book in his pocket. A hobo at heart a drunk by night and a rambling pain. Tired and old before his time. Studying the greats Bukowski, Tom Waits William S. Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson, Kerouac and John Steinbeck. Drinking Brandy and Cockspur rum from the bottle. Hiding down South for the winter months running from the cold and consequence.
No comments:
Post a Comment