I miss my ox and I miss my plow. I miss the way Molly used to pour the whiskey jug for me. She would hum a sweet tune as I drank at the table.
The snows fell so hard on our one room shack in the hills that winter. At one point Satan showed up with his crew of Banditos. They wanted our souls, but we wouldn't give them away so easily.
Later on, as I sat down and wept into my bowl of beef stew, I had a vision in a flash of fire light. Then a voice spoke to me... It said, "Don't ever take acid before a final exam again."
...thoughts come to me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment