Country Music
an online journal of poetry
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A.T. Grant

 

 

COUNTRY MUSIC

 

my gleam freckles taste
the hole in me
I spew gutter stunk
my arm hurts it hurts so bad
I want to cut it off
I imagine removing
little bits of me sometimes
grating my skin in the showerdrain
Cheryl says my eyes
are mean and she's right
except really
I'm the mean one behind them


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