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country boy yell

the wabash's running low,
me, i'm riding high. joan's
here by my side;
hand working down her thigh.
wimmen  should be my heaven...ummm,
heaven should be dry.
moans' are made for loving;
i'm just made for rye.
life, it is a push-boat... ummm,
pushing-barges to the towns;
life groans like a sex band,
but, it's not a money sound.
wimmen should be my heaven;
heaven should be wet.
moans' and boys are beautiful;
haven't made my mind up yet.
met a boy in delphi,
Indiana farm.
load'n hay in trailers; hay loft in
the barn.
Joan's now in my buttons,
I'm up in the air.
take a slug of rot gut rye....ummm,
I really do not care.

18 Jan 18

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(53 more poems by this author)

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I like this more than I should, to quote 16 'haven't made my Mind up yet',  The umms are a hard hurdle. Lets percolate. could be gold
 — sixtywatt

it's a play piece, where I'm trying to catch bluegrass song diction. and, provo, to write what people don't talk about in public. country people, when I was in my twenty's, would call me cock sucker in the daylight, and want to suck my cock at night.

 — cadmium

punctu-point change.
 — cadmium

u have a lo t of should, u are smart tho too, care.
 — percocet

your poetry will be burned if u don't care.
 — percocet

way to be a dumb slut guy
 — percocet