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 travelled up and
back down to the ground with you
connived, shucked, and survived
all around 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 people. 
It wasn't our fault.
     Enter trophy wife in residence.,
no bankers hours
factory made, used 
purchased on consignment.
Picking at her food
No T,,V dinners
or throw away dishes...
But, an uneasy economy of words.
Protracted embarassing pauses
and pre-nup clauses .
and those frightful jitters 
sending hot electrical currents 
running under my skin
forcing 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,
Biting down hard,
tasting blood
often my own. 
Tempted to tap out. While
trying to mount a defense.
in my mind I chart a path back
to the Sun Road
re-tracing blood soaked
trails  back to you..

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Buddy Bee Anthony

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