Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I've only got one bar on my phone and there's only one more between here and home. Ten dollars in my pocket may as well be a thousand. Like a penny in the fusebox, I could make it last until the lights go out. There's a cowboy band playing. A wooden Indian by the door. I don't think he listens to their stories anymore. He's quiet on the subject. He's quite an object of curiosity. Instead of two-stepping all night long, maybe I should take that Indian home. Use the last bar to call Coleen. Tell her to put a *** of cowboy coffee on. We'll tell stories of our own. Sing songs in the old way about better days when we were young.
0
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
Bars
I've only got one bar on my phone and there's only one more between here and home. Ten dollars in my pocket may as well be a thousand. Like a penny in the fusebox, I could make it last until the lights go out. There's a cowboy band playing. A wooden Indian by the door. I don't think he listens to their stories anymore. He's quiet on the subject. He's quite an object of curiosity. Instead of two-stepping all night long, maybe I should take that Indian home. Use the last bar to call Coleen. Tell her to put a *** of cowboy coffee on. We'll tell stories of our own. Sing songs in the old way about better days when we were young.
r-2
Written by
American
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem