Inside a cabin, I
chew Ma's
fat while the gang
checks
the windows for
law and trees who
grow outta rocks.
Ma's got a mole
with a long
hair.
I got a cigarette
hangin' outta
the corner of my
mouth.
you can write a long story with a shortcut. It always your style, scotty dogg style! _Soul
I do like the way in which you cut the narrative into a set of staccato moments - like the feeling of complete and simultaneous incomplete phrase sets- you got my creative juices dripping on how to use this idea. Has haunts of Steinbeck but ultimately Mr Dogg it seeps into one.. Have been thinking about this mood since reading it a couple of days ago beginningn to realize its qualities simple but so so rich.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
when you finish the fat you could start on the mole i guess. bang! bang! what KIND of cigarette is that? :)