Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

a case of the cain’t hep itz

down where i’m from
once you cross the line
from fayette into jessamine county
the condition ceases to be psychotic compulsion
and becomes known as
a bona fide case
of the can’t help its

and that’s what we have here folks
a cliff wandering fool
drinking pabst
wearing the statue of liberty’s crown
deep crimson nail polish and matching pumps
torch in hand
cock knockin’ around in a pair
of walgreens panty hose
blaming his mother for acid rain
and the red sox game

if that ain’t a case of the “cain’t hep itz”
i don’t know what is

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