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,
back and around with you
connived, shucked, and survived with you.
The time we rode out the monster.
Taking time out from, feverish, wicked
clashes of time. Times we
were 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
almost new 
furniture
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
Hot electrical currents run
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,
Biting down hard,
tasting blood
often my own. 
Never tapping out
trying to mount a defense.
while charting a path back
to the Sun Road
re-tracing the trail  back to you..

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Buddy Bee Anthony



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