Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Make It Up Monday #2: 52 Weeks of Wordage
We're already late for Mama and now we got us a flat! She's gonna be loaded for bear when we get there now. I don't even want to think about it. "Don't you fret, kiddo! I've got a spare in the trunk, and I'll have us on the road again in no time!" Yeah, right. That was, like, a hundred hours ago, and it don't look like he's fixin' to finish this job any time soon. And he's whistlin' too! Don't seem to bother him none that Mama's gonna be yellin' and screamin' and all red in the face cuz he's late again bringing me back from his weekend. Sure, he'll just smile his crooked smile and say, "Aw, c'mon, Jess, you know I'm tryin' my best for the girl. And I sure do miss your pretty face too." And Mama will just roll her eyes and tell him to grow up, and I'll get stuck with her ugly mood the rest of the night. I ain't never gettin' married when I grow up.