NO COVER by Jeffrey Littrell

 

my guitar is all I ever hold

there’s no getting past the lies you told

left picking up the pieces I can find

trying to chase this darkness from my mind

 

life’s become a river I can’t ford

swept away by waves of minor chords

singing to the pictures on the wall

there, where no one sees me when I fall

 

it’s a miracle that I’ve even got this far

singing for Coronas, in a dimly lit dive bar

playing “Thunder Road” for twenty-five

I can’t tell if I’m dead, or if I’m still alive

 

a tweaker sets me up a shot of Crown

then asks me if I know the new Shinedown

my pain subsides as I proceed to play

the neon always seems to cut the grey

 

the waitress said she thought I sounded good

and clapped far louder than she really should

at night’s end, load the gear into the van

I’m driving to Valdosta, just a ghost inside a man

 

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About digthroughlife

I am a fifty-three year old poet who also writes fiction. I worked twenty-three years for the USPS, though never enthusiastically. I am a member of French Writers Worldwide and have had several poems published in French and Spanish. I hold strong opinions on music, film, and human rights. Some of my influences are Charles Bukowski, Arthur Rimbaud, Dylan Thomas, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Sylvia Plath, W.B Yeats, Bob Marley, William Blake, and Hunter S. Thompson. I'm an avid fan of the New York Yankees, Oakland Raiders, and Indiana Pacers. I like traveling by car. I enjoy seeing rock and alt-country bands in small venues. I hold a black belt in Taekwondo, but no longer spar due to injuries incurred in a motorcycle accident in 2005. I play acoustic guitar. I love Crown Royal whiskey and California Kush. Women are both the bane of my existence and all that sustains me. I believe strongly in the power of love and heartbreak. View all posts by digthroughlife

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