Moonshine Country

Moonshine County



Stand left, right, never knew which was correct. Etiquette — another ball of tied up wool. Grain growing grim this year, down south where the Klan have their meetings and disheveled mothers walk the streets crying; it’s a socially anxious nation of losers and do-gooders. Warm, yes make me calm. I like that.

It’s almost like Xanax. No don’t go; never leave — let’s snuggle up here tight

Raw, red, ripe, raped, ready, rabid, rushing forward to him the one you waited for.

Colourful clawing, creating craters in my moonshine. Look you can see the little bubbles!

Captain Wretched hollers ‘Hey you you got you some of that drink for a me?’

I pass it along as the grubby, grotty, gritty, garbageman wipes his dirty lips and coughs up blood. ‘Yep that’s American blood for ya’, he states wildly.

Sitting under constellations — delight. The name of Orion is pointed out as we get the fire roaring — like a haystack burning in summer heat.

We toss booze around each other as the levels of disheveled gets more.I pass it along as the grubby, grotty, gritty, garbageman wipes his dirty lips and coughs up blood.



So lonely in groups.

I swear at the guardian angel Peter ‘you fucking wanker!’. He smiles in return looking like a blow up Ken doll. Hey I think I can be Barbie. Let’s have another drink.

This round my guts twist sickly, so sore, stitches, scummy, scrounging sweetly ever to hospital staff. ‘Are you on duty?’ No? Then…who is? I purge, vomit comes flying out onto her sensible shoes. My boots have Johnny Walker on them ok. I run out into evening blackness.

Trees like tall ghosts swinging ever so lightly — I’m flighty I know that much. I wrangle with limbs of twine arms on the trees’ roots as it shoots for the stars.

That’s where I’m going. Up there. To be a star. Get out of this one hick place and make a life. Like the constellations. Like Orion. Pl

uto.

Now I cry.