shirtless stud in a tin can locomotive, tired drunk and content in spiritual wastful thoughts. i throw my hat against the dawn sun, shuddering and shaking and i making an old ten gallon shadow, knowing then and so happily there i was in the west. the desert uplifted by the dusty rims, machinery grunting out’a the tailpipe, coughing on occasion, golden planet, headlights dimming the road once fiery, the route abandoned for freedom and company and girls in high shorts. 

the ladies of the west were christian polite, doe eyed and freckled with long wavy hair, but with bodies and a laugh you couldn’t waste on a christian boy. They needed fun, they needed spirits, they needed spirit. they wanted a heart broken once so they could show it to their daughters and teach them a lesson whilst disguising a smile. they wanted to remember when they put on a hat that blurry little night when they’d worn nothing but mine. they wanted a furious father who’d come at them with the strap for being so late and high, and as they stumbled into the woods would catch on the vines and fall, never rising, relieving their mother who’d depart for the horizon, which short days later would blister an outline of lovers on a steed. 

the camaro brakes outside a bar, dirty red and dirty nonetheless, cloudy eyed eying us coy behind their supple hands, lashes fanning midnight hands round their hips.  

* submitted by blanchflower

shirtless stud in a tin can locomotive, tired drunk and content in spiritual wastful thoughts. i throw my hat against the dawn sun, shuddering and shaking and i making an old ten gallon shadow, knowing then and so happily there i was in the west. the desert uplifted by the dusty rims, machinery grunting out’a the tailpipe, coughing on occasion, golden planet, headlights dimming the road once fiery, the route abandoned for freedom and company and girls in high shorts. 

the ladies of the west were christian polite, doe eyed and freckled with long wavy hair, but with bodies and a laugh you couldn’t waste on a christian boy. They needed fun, they needed spirits, they needed spirit. they wanted a heart broken once so they could show it to their daughters and teach them a lesson whilst disguising a smile. they wanted to remember when they put on a hat that blurry little night when they’d worn nothing but mine. they wanted a furious father who’d come at them with the strap for being so late and high, and as they stumbled into the woods would catch on the vines and fall, never rising, relieving their mother who’d depart for the horizon, which short days later would blister an outline of lovers on a steed. 

the camaro brakes outside a bar, dirty red and dirty nonetheless, cloudy eyed eying us coy behind their supple hands, lashes fanning midnight hands round their hips.  

* submitted by blanchflower