population of
too big to count
and too small to remember
i grew up in back woods
on lost trails
overgrown with moss and vines and ferns
that no one knows the names of
with street names and roads that everyone can recite
like romeo's soliloquy to juliet
in your less than exceptional theater class
my blood tastes like peach mango moonshine
and bud light i stole from my dads fridge
my pillows smell like camel blue's
and head and shoulders shampoo
and god would i do anything
to leave this small
redneck
bum-fuck-no-where
virginia town
where corn mazes in the fall
and the local park everyone knows
are the only places to hang out
where kids raise themselves
and future alcoholics are born
with a hatred for the world and everything in it
small
virginia town
you are hell on earth
and i cant wait to see you burn to the ground
