Tuesday, January 16, 2024

it wasn't my fault sweetheart

i see the cars
and trucks
off the side of the road,
head long
into ditches.
speeding perhaps,
sliding
on the ice
when braking in
the falling snow,
the black
slick roads,
while taking a nip
or two
from the flask
of booze,
but the car is still there.
bent
in poles and trees,
broken fences while
the people,
have staggered off
to tell her their
husbands or wives,
about
the other guy.

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