I’m no man of grace.
Nor one with a squeaky clean past.
Ghetto redneck,
Learned,
Via the school of hard knocks.
First time I ever smoked weed,
It was laced with crystal meth.
How they hooked kids.
Still do.
First blowjob was in a pair,
Of cutoff jean shorts.
Stupid as shit.
In a truth or dare circle.
Weirder to have people watch.
Shoulda known with those older girls.
Preyed upon for my naivete?
May never know.
Hell,
Some never realize the bad until decades after.
Never believed in myself,
Trapped in the logger life.
Had to get away from it.
Anger and substance abuse as common,
As one drank water.
So many dead men.
Holding them in my heart like ghosts.
My crass nature remains,
Tribute to the dead.
Poverty,
Hick life in weekends spent working.
Walking bush until we were teenagers.
Riding in the box back down.
How many guys did I pick up after benders?
Late to work due to drugging,
Drinking,
Partying through the weekend.
I don’t miss those days.
Those formative years that showed me,
How shitty humanity could be.
Got beat up a lot,
But only in the heart.
Got thrashed around,
But only by our own stupidity.
Hick redneck savants,
Strange clan,
Misunderstood by most.
Had many firsts,
That other people can hardly fathom,
Just want to share these experiences,
Hear the stories.
Because soon,
We’re all out of time.
Don’t matter how your truth looks.
If it dies with you,
Never gets told?
People can learn from your mistakes,
From the insanity of your lived experience.
Walk away with some skills,
Sure.
But being good at cunnilingus,
Ain’t the miracle you think it is.
We need to have a talk,
About what you constitute as a miracle.
