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Wednesday, June 23, 2010

small town life.

The laughter here is thick, long and uncontrolled. I crack a country boy heart or two with my disinterest. There is no nice way to dismiss the attention gathered from new-girl allure, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll come right out and say ‘fuck off’ if there’s no other way to make it clear. This is the small town life. A place where I toss out coyote howling sounds at every opportunity, drink beer like water and bake weed cookies with my mom. A place where taking refuge from the coastal heat, means a swim at Fred’s Hole and every second person walking by offers to smoke a joint with you. A place where my worst mumbling is somehow understood perfectly. Where thoughts are said out loud and everyone knows your name before you’ve met them.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I live in a small town.
But nobody here offers to smoke a joint with me. ☻

Nobody makes coyote sounds either. Except the coyotes.
And they just won't shut up.

Anonymous said...

And. Walking there amongst those cracking hearts does she give thought to the fissure living in the swamps of Virginia? Perhaps not. After all, hearts are cracking everywhere. What's a couple more jagged ruins when the slice will stay wide for you?

MrUSSinFullEffect said...

small towne girl?
i had no idea.



i'll take my tiiiiimmmee
let the sun make a pass
you know that i'll make tiiiiimmmee
to feel you here next to me
if you'd take the time
maybe pick up the slack
you'd know that i'm not the one
to bring you here to sit with
matter of faaact i know just how you act
i tell you i'm not the one
to walk you through your fallacies
if you were the one walkin the streets
oh baby you'd have fun with the rotten heart on my sleeve

small towne girl wanna go for a riiiide
small towne girl wanna come insiiiide

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