the one tune I knew
about spending your money
was cut short
when you ran out of money
listening to alan jackson
and garth brooks
drinking
very, very cheap whiskey
knowing that if we were listening
to garth brooks and alan jackson
and fiddles and lap steel guitar
and turning down bartenders
we were already too far gone
too fucked off the jukebox
to think about mornings
no longer playing possum
but becoming a possum
instead.
