Hometown girls
are real with you.
If they don't like you,
they'll even make their *****
look ugly;
pulling them in all the way
to the tops of their thighs
through their buttholes
and you can smell the stench
in your brain.

But when they let you in,
when they let you sit on their ears,
it's like warp-drive.

They smoke virginia slims,
because that's what their mom's smoke,
and the bags under their eyes
are filled with nicotine,
but they're pretty bags,
purses of flesh
full with the kinetic beauty of coal.

Hometown girls are mostly black,
mostly white,
fifty-fity,
but nobody's checking
and when they whisper something nice in your ear
it's colored with a microbrew
or a wheel of Jim Beam.

Sometimes they'll take you by the wrist
into the bathrooms;
sometimes they'll take your drink
when you're not looking
and smile when you catch them
with it on their lips.

But that smile is good even,
on par with a supernova
in its ability to crush
and make beautiful.


But most of the time,
they stand around
outside Casbah
and Motorco
--if they're bougie
it'll be West End--
in the middle of the night
under the porch of the sky
looking out with amber
slitted eyes
like cats,
their legs twitching thoughtfully
as they wait for cabs
and pick at the night.

Hometown girls
are ****/beautiful
because they'll watch your every move
from the gallery
out of empathy,
knowing they've been that ***** before,
knowing they've been that lonely,
knowing they just want to get drunk
and want to be around randoms
that aren't so random.

QUESTION.

Poverty!
Do you think that this should be a global urgency?
Selfworth as Commodity!
Do you think that this should be a human priority?
Try telling one billion children living in extreme poverty,
And the twenty two thousand that die each day that their not a priority,
Tell them we have more important matters to adhere,
That our top ten banking bosses earn an excess of two hundred million a year,
So what about our eight hundred and fity million that don’t have access to clean water,
Tell them they dont really have a voice and dont really matter,
Clean is not fourteen billion pounds of waste dumped this year into the sea,
Clean is not two hundred million gallons of crued oil lost into our oceans by BP.

I am Jimmy.

For fity miles
she rode on a  rare Steed
to show her endeavour,
never saying whether should would dither -
a hearth must be prepared with care
a heart's evermore if it is sincere,
dreaming of the future under a
Trestle viaduct,
she recalled tact,
your typical daughter
with thin waist
and flaxen hair
could be changed by the World,
instead she had the courage of choice,
to embroider a kindred yarn
and perform revival folk
to kinder Columbine kingdoms,
perchance early to rise?

We know the players.
Or the so called womanizers.
With the various females lovers.
So you have to respect the couples with fifty years of love.

Just take a look at those that respect them.
Many want a marriage similar to them.
Except they afraid of the price you have to pay.

Through trials and tribulations.
You must struugle on.
A unlove affair doesn't last long.
While fity years of love folks.
Can advise you of ways to get along.

Players, womanizers we can easily critique.
But many women loves playing these foolish games.
Then have too many broken hearts from the affair.

Just to have a little taste of love.
That doesn't mean a thing.

Except notice the couples that celebrate fifty years.
It's because they realize the strength of love bulit between them.