It was a Town Called Yukon
It was a town called Yukon that led me astray
Trashy little coal camp hamlet with a one way street
half a stop sign
I miscounted lefts and completed a circle
At the beginning again with a chain restaurant
dropped at the road side, I realize how hungry I am
The last time I ate at one of these was a year ago
after a shit reading for twenty dollars in a deserted bend in the river town
The girl who was with me had just finalized a divorce, now she has cancer
The waitress’ name must be honey
all the businessmen call her that
They gawk at her too much make up, no ass and push up bra
She asks if I’d like a drink
I swear it’s the first word in English anyone has said to me
She delivers, I take a pull, realize a mistake
Air conditioning made me believe a shandy was a good idea
now I’m positive it wasn’t, a headache crawls in with the sweetness
Another businessman calls honey
I think all my crushes are on barmaids, baristas and waitresses
women who talk to me on days when I’ve fallen map
if only 'cause I pay them
Today, I have fallen off the map
Three boxers sit at the corner
I listen, half ass watch soccer, nurse my Shandy
They talk Christian girls, diets and hangovers
I can’t take anymore
I call honey and ask for a to go cup
surprised when she hands me one
I pour the remnants in
Now I can nurse the too sweet taste
for the next forty miles
tugging at the edges while the beer gets too warm
when it does I’ll stop on a hill on a red dog road
a dead black snake stretched nine feet across
hit with such force it blew the skull clear of the head
I lean over, pour the dregs on the corpse
stare sun blind at nowhere
wait on a resurrection that never comes
--Jason Baldinger
No comments:
Post a Comment