Observations of a friend's dad cognitivly declining after years of drinking and drugging
Written 5/3/26
The plumber man fell asleep with ash on his lips, losing track of his cerebral train John Boy with his stained new teeth and guns of oil on his stone hands Paining tires, chainsaws, the garage ceiling seasoning the turning of a leaf John Boy's hounds piss on the porch warping wood with smoke and sulfur Is shooting blind since the judge took his gun from his holster John Boy stopped drinking a little too late his brain full of holes, just like a tree trunk to a woodpecker's peck As he drunkenly recants the psalm 'I get no respect!'
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