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Cotton is everywhere, it's on the ground; in the ditches, all brown and soggy like wet hairballs; in the wheel wells, the rotor tiller; the SNAPPER' the squash; your wife's ******** tingling her constantly; the speedometer, the pulled pork, collards, mashed potatoes and most definitely the gravy; it's in the eyes, makes them red and explosive, it's in the dark loam and gloam; the unwashed streetlights, the blue dark and even bluer lampposts in the middle of fields black as oil; the pink sun, white clapboards and redwood siding of that burned-out homestead; the cotton is everywhere; thrown up by the slaves; a ceiling made just for February lovelessness as I pull on my Marlboro and crook my arm like the cornices of a power station.
0
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 10:41 AM UTC
It's everywhere.
Cotton is everywhere, it's on the ground; in the ditches, all brown and soggy like wet hairballs; in the wheel wells, the rotor tiller; the SNAPPER' the squash; your wife's ******** tingling her constantly; the speedometer, the pulled pork, collards, mashed potatoes and most definitely the gravy; it's in the eyes, makes them red and explosive, it's in the dark loam and gloam; the unwashed streetlights, the blue dark and even bluer lampposts in the middle of fields black as oil; the pink sun, white clapboards and redwood siding of that burned-out homestead; the cotton is everywhere; thrown up by the slaves; a ceiling made just for February lovelessness as I pull on my Marlboro and crook my arm like the cornices of a power station.
Waverly
Written by
35/M/American
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 10:41 AM UTC
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