Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Where I come From.

crickets and frogs are wallpaper
language and dialect follow beads of sweat down your spine
brick and vine and rose bushes are so old they are dangerous
the magnolia blossoms, dried and withered, have memories like white haired women in nursing homes
coors light is local and unpretentious
canning rooms off the back kitchen are wall to wall tomatos
streets have no numerical alphabetical or organizational order
conversations happen when you don't need to talk, you just need to sit

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