All the back road

by Alan Catlin

grit from every
twisted turnpike,
every broken double
yellow lined highway
not on any map
sold in this country
or anywhere else, was
embedded about his
person, “Son, make it a
longneck, doesn’t matter
what kind and a double
Yukon neat. What you
lookin’ at?” He said,
observing me reading
the faded lettering on his
way old, oil stained
shirt that said,
He smiled, pounding
down his brand of liquid
fire, washing it away
with Imported from
Jersey longneck swill
signaling dos mas,
as he swalloed the last
of his beer, said,
“Anyone can wear a
shirt. This one you
have to earn.”

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1 Response to All the back road

  1. Joyce Juzwik says:

    Love this. You can picture the guy and just imagine the tales he has to tell. That last line, “This one you have to earn.” says it all. Reminds me of back in the day, stopping at ‘those places’ on the side of the road for a quick one. They’re full of real people, “those places” and this was fun to read.

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