when I was a young'n not yet growed
I had lemonade in my veins err'vy summer
I hadda vortex gullet like a cockpine barber handle
old sludge tits here
took 'em into the dusty mason jar, behind a nostalgia log
burly treesap crustin' gramma
stumbling out from behind the pollenated trellis
arms like windsocks, the flab tethered love worms
“It smells like honeysuckle here,” she crooned
wheezerasped with laughter
a half eaten toblerone sticking out of a shirt pocket
oh shit, diatoms
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Tenacity, n: The state of possessing ten asses.
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