farmhouse blues.

I use my teeth to scratch my eyelids

     And my legs to run from monsters

Painted tiles, ceramic minds, glass clocks

Pour more coffee into my eyes and watch the

Rain pour from mountains and skies

     Blood painted across the August Sun

Praying for the young and their future

Asphalt hats will steal your thoughts

While churches try to save the dogs

Rice and brains, cheese and cranes

To the top of the mountain my heart

Sings.