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Hopped a rattler out of Akron. Rode the high end all the way. On the Erie-Lackawanna, Made North Jersey by next day. Between a bottle and a biscuit, And that’s all I’m gonna say. ‘Twas a rude accommodation. No Angelina on my arm. Stumbled in Towaco Station, A-number-1, no false alarm. I raided Harrigan’s at midnight. Came to find my lucky charm. Jacked a barstool with a seatbelt. Took that baby for a spin. Tanked a beaker full of vino, Ran some red light sure as sin. I traced the towpath to a piss pot; Couldn’t keep from falling in. Old Black Joe and Camptown Races Waged a juke box culture war. Jumped a willing breakneck filly, Spilled her potluck on the floor. I played her pussy foot to cat’s paw, Then I danced right out the door. Fleeced a rummage sale in Boonton; Empty pockets, long-term loan. Found a brown old five cent nickel, And a plastic pocket comb. Ain’t no sweet back, blue-eyed beefer. New Hobohemia’s my home.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Date: 9/16/2021 10:41:00 AM
What needs to be blue? I'm curious if I'm missing it. Wonderful poem though!
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Date: 9/1/2021 9:40:00 AM
Fantastic read, so well-written. You are very talented, indeed, Michael. Keep writing and sharing.
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Date: 9/1/2021 7:01:00 AM
You have such a great talent.
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