COUNTRY ROADS
TAKE ME HOME COUNTRY ROADS
Go away rare butterfly The construction Gods
have conspired to destroy our holiday & I have
just been bitten by a deerfly Left ankle bleeding
Chair now soaked after freak-rain Turquoise tankini
damp + churlish against city-white skin Rash setting in
Would that it were Tequila dripping from my chin instead of
homemade jam left on our bedside table at The Little Inn
Now we lumber down mainstreet lurching on cobblestones
& face a 45 minute wait for beer-battered goat A pox on Mr.
Innkeeper whose ratty little dog will soon begin to bark You
can take your country jams & shove them into a dark crevasse
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Summer 2011