Them There Hills

in Poetry

For Bobbi: Her six words…Silver, laughing, restless, vodka, over. (Yes only five, but Bobbi gets a pass from me forever.)

Them There Hills

I’m back into silver
long
well, metals

—yeah—
seeing another
short
commodities
war

Restless money
Weapons Free?
queries that
potato sack
of a Russian
ex-pat
pinching
the porcelain
bottom of
a vodka virgin
who’s laughing
and is,
for sure,
Weapons Free

Hey,
it’s all cash
and carrion

As Africa
bends over,
yet
again

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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