Jims dead baby

she loved the words

wanted me to write

keep them coming honey

life is gonna be a blast

I’m not Jim I said

not that she could hear

neither Hank nor Byron

what I got is mine alone

those ears all stoppered

full of dead love

wanting to be the true amour

of the see’er a prophet

I knew this couldn’t last

but hey I’m a poet

we ride the beast

whether pony donkey mule

all the way into the dirt

screaming hallelujah!

& pass the ammunition

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