Thursday, June 12, 2008

You Bet My Life

All the way past Santa Fe
and down to San Anton,
I chucked the maps in Phoenix
with your letter and my phone.

You’re somewhere in the valley
with some thickneck from your gym,
staring out the window
as he tells you about him.

Oklahoma is OK,
Arkansas is sad,
a bartender in Shreveport
says he used to know my dad.

You’re somewhere by an ocean
with some buddy from your work,
going Dutch to dinner
as he tells you I’m a jerk.

And I’m blowing through Kentucky,
rolling out through Tennessee,
a diamond in my pocket
and a bottle on my knee;

in your best friend’s apartment
crying in your chardonnay -
here’s hoping your next hand is better
than the one you threw away.

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