trip to p.a.
Posted to Poetry
by butterflyleigh on 2002-03-21 09:17:00
As the greyhound passes out of the black hole of Louisanna quaint country nothing streets follow. Coonasses selling the fruit of their labor in these backwards towns out of the ass end of their pick-up trucks. The haze of the sweltering humid L.A. air has left me in a sleep mode, hoping for a stop soon so that I may inhale nicotine tainted smoke from a red.
12:00 am tuesday
May 2001
