Friday, August 28, 2009

(poem)



yessir
gonna git me a hill of dirt
put some apple trees onnit
gala honey crisp take a bite when ever I want

ask a man to be my wife
for the cooking canning cider making
already got one picked out
with a sun-tan and a girl-friend.

‘s’alright, I’ll wait around on you, Old Blue Eyes
I ain’t in no hurry.