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Apr 2014
He calls you
Baby Hard Luck,
with cooing verity,
and rests beside
your finely shaved
and naked legs.

The evening
found below the iron belt,
the alley stropped
jeans with a half
pack of reds
tucked in,

and all that
tremendous
motion,
the record
slopping
onward.

you hope
the song will
never end,
but they are all
your favorite.
Jory
Written by
Jory  Chicago
(Chicago)   
  1.1k
     Timothy, Jack Piatt, ---, ---, Cailey Weaver and 2 others
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