the internet blues

you met a woman
once who chewed
tobacco and played
the banjo while
sitting on her
front porch. she
wore high
laced boots which
may or may not
have been her mother's,
she liked to tap
them loudly
while she sang
in a high falsetto
voice and strummed
out a wild song
about coal mining
and a tragic cave in
which she blamed
the government for.
she handed you a
harmonica, wiping if
off with her long
red hair, saying it
was her uncle's, who
died of lupus last
spring. he's buried
right over there
by the well, she said.
she tells you to
sit down and join
in. so you did,
blowing your lungs
out until you
blacked out and
rolled onto the porch
where her hound
dogs licked your
face until you
woke up. she nudged
you with her boots
and said, wake up
boy, i got biscuits
in the oven that
are ready to come
out. it seems
you should have
read her profile
more clearly and not
just looked
at the cute freckled
face photo.