Tattoos in Mayberry

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You took it straight up,
the hard way.
For that,, I tip my hat.
and that would be that,
until the next time.
And, there's
always a next time.
Like the time I barely survived up
back and around lower ground with you.
connived, shucked, and jived
 with you..
The time we rode out the monster.
Taking time out from, feverish, wicked
clashes of time, awash in  
rapid rivers of time
Times, we almost drowned in the brackish undertow
The times we made plans in languages that long 
ago conquered our peoples. 
It wasn't our fault.
     Enter trophy wife in residence.
Comfortable as  patio furniture,
no bankers hours.
Picking at her food 
disposable
dishes....
We share an economy of words.
Leading to protracted embarassing pauses
and pre-nup clauses .
and what of those frightful, midnight, jitters 
sending hot electrical currents 
running under my skin
putting me on speed dial
to the dope-man.

Bloody bitten fingernails,
worn down past the nub.

kill or you're fresh kill,
pinned down to the mat
for the count,
So, you 
bite down hard
tasting blood
often your own. 
Never tapping out
while mounting a defense.
 charting  a path 
to get back to the Sun Road
leading back to you..

All rights reserved as is by author

Buddy Bee Anthony



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