K.W. Peery

Six Twisted Hours

From
the ravaged
caned seat
of this ole
tiger oak
rockin’ chair
I pour
three more
fat fingers
of single barrel
and listen
to Leon
tickle those
ivories
on Queen
of the
Roller Derby

I guess
this is
the best
I’m willin’
to get
since the
Tuesday blues
have already
saturated my
frontal lobe
and there’s
at least
six twisted
hours
of day
drinkin’ left
before the
next fuckin’
thunderstorm
finds me

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