Whiskey Poem

I. Woke up in a field of whiskey And torn bras strewn Like spider webs across The broken rusted truck parts I call home. This field of dreams Is dying one old man Soaked in old spice Hoarse with old crow At a time. And while the sun is always rising For those whose flesh has not yet Begun to rot from the over activity of swollen sexual organs, I am now beginning to eat my days One bowl of grits…
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Thursday, Thors day, and the gods were once planets.

The Planets were inseparable from the Gods for most of human history. We have come so far in our modern edge and scientific mindset that we the educated west tend to completely dismiss as superstition the ways that our ancestors thought. Every new generation thinks it is the smartest, best, and most intelligent generation that has lived. But are we more intelligent then our forefathers, our…
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