Monday, January 17, 2011

up in the Falls

day off from duty,
sleeping bags,
change of clothes,
shit kickers,
box of Slee,'
pack a' smokes,
slam some strings,
whistle dogs cook,
phone call,
some directions,
Olie's old man's concerned look,
house party,
country style,

case of 50 for dinner,

case of 50 for breakfast,
Leppard, Ozzy, Merle Haggard,
rooms and faces cloaked in smoke,
spin slow then fast,
rifle rack unlocked,
buckshot everywhere,
shot gun blasts,
into the night,
cowboy boots and underwear,
out cold in the basement,
Woodstock on the TV,
somewhere in the darkness,
a girl from Port Elmsley took a run at me,
morning burns,
empty bottles on the grass,
wave to the cuz through the backseat glass,
rough ride back,
pull over for a vomit splash,
tell the boss to hold your calls,
next time you're up in the Falls.

photo D. Neutel


Juice Box said...

Love the way this reads. You've got a way with rhymes friend.

Old Ollie said...

Thanx man.

Fell a touch of the flu coming on...always get the flu at Ian's"

Yep lived this poem.

GravenRecords said...

Haha. Flu! Great story man. I remember hearing about this right after it happened. The S.F. Good shit.

Fisheye Lens said...

Sounds like many a night -- and character testing morning -- growing up in the Glen. A singular experience, yet a familiar song from the sylvan soundtrack.

The Square Corner said...

This is straight out of beat poetry. Terse with a great story.

Old Ollie said...

People just Feking love the Falls!

That is how we pronounce "fuck" up them parts.