Settle for a story instead of news?
One I heard tending the old Catholic church's pews?
A little I know of carpentry, heart
to heart starlings, a rogue with a cigar,
a woman who would be king. My belle did tell
me once on a swing through the north of how
her father took her will and made her whore
her heart out to anyone who cared to show
her kindness. That's how I had her, you see,
no manly finesse needed, just a kind teaser,
soft hands, polite words. And instead of kissing her
as I bet she heard in her own little movie,
I got up and left. Dumped my phone in the river.
We left my town to get the jump on a job
tattooed in the paper. The kind of people
we are die of heart attacks, need to settle
up, find late salvation, pawn old guitars.
