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Straight From The Hip

Cut no lies with the diamond words spoke against the windshield.

Behind Wal-Mart in Flag City,
it was an armrest that divided us,
yet it was so much more,
and even through the swipes

of our generation’s plastic bondage,
I couldn’t explain it
as our voices carved chunks out of our hearts.
HD TV’s and Playstation 3’s
sold away this young couple’s
future two story house.

We stopped on our way home from Columbus,
and words of who was the asshole
played ping pong between us,
all the while credit filled a gas tank,
and a 19-year-old boy lost a leg in a desert,
drowning in Shi’ite grains,
and as our president asked

for a few more votes,
a young girl bought see-through panties.
And you asked why I loved you,
as the coolant of my Monte Carlo,
this crisp cut rusted blue tank,
the coolant dripped down a sewer drain,
what we needed drowning a toothless hole.

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My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.

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