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I am a back-room mistake.
A honky-tonk mosaic.
A not-love-child
A bad-seed
sowed half-assed
and wild
in a hard row to hoe
I am a pale faced
horror show.
Some hack painted
ugly and clumsy
on 1967 black velvet.
I was taken from
the shaken
brown shards of
lone star beet bottles.
Some blue-eyed fool
flung from
the hung-over
red-neck wreck
of his
pick-up truck.
While it was stuck
on the muddy banks
of the Frio River
And I would
come as an
unwanted surprise.
A pale-skinned
grey-eyed
Child of Sin
formed in
the Summer of Love.
Knowing I’d been
dropped
by some
shameless,
nameless
curly-haired
devil-may-care
coward of a madman.
As he shuffled
maybe
and I hope
heart-sore
for my Mamma’s
Trailer trash door.
Coughing
Pall-Mall smoke
at the stroke of
another lonely dawn.
Ackwardly hacking
as he was snapping
his pearl snaps.
Trapping my mother
with yet another
Long Kiss goodbye.
And his boots.
on that gravel road
took flight.
Left her
and left me
behind,
owl-eyed
with this despised
curling hair.
And there
were
no cigars.
I came from
broken down cars
and
waitress tips
looking always off
to the distance
with eyes
that offended my family
with my very existance.
I came up with
my edges too sharp
too stubborn to
be invisible,
to just hush
in the cowering blush.
of my inherited sin.
I would not lay quiet
or still the riot of
my never ment to be soul.
Truth be told
that man's
2-stepin'
whiskey-laden
honkey tonk
two-timing
lying
with my Mamma
Left a shame on me
that still has some
in the bosom of my family?
speak my name
In whispers.
And I?
I inherited his sin
his curls and his good skin
and a hard heart
with my
off-kilter start
I was Joy’s
bow-your-head-in-shame-Baby.
And I was never any
Daddy’s little girl
It may be
a red-neck
Tilt-a-whirl
song of
shame and
glory,
This story of me.
But you better see.
I have already made sure
I cam out to be
anything!
But some
heard-before
lame-ass
weak-tea
back-door
back-street
tragedy.
