East Tennessee

No apologies. I miss this blog something awful, though my computer was stolen, and the ability to write at work is slim. But I stole a moment to post a spoken word piece I wrote recently. I hope you enjoy. Oh… and Happy Valentines Day.

East Tennessee

That beer tasted like freedom.
Tasted like east Tennessee
Riding through back roads in the mountains
Windows down
Rolling my palm up and down through the wind
Racing across the hood of a 69 Skylark

Lust tasted like late nights and tight jeans
Across Mr. Wrong’s ass in June
A handkerchief in his back pocket
Covered in oil from the car that you drove,
And he expertly fixed
with his hands
With his tools
With his jawbone
With his weight on your pelvis.

Tasted like pool.
The one you threw back on the last break
The night you stumbled into the street
Laughing at the thought that no one could touch you,
Invincible in your underwire bra.

Tasted like the Nolichucky
Rolling and diving in whitewater
When the water finally calmed
And you sat sun-drunk
Basking in a limestone gorge
Surrounding you like a protector
Watching rafts go past

Tasted like the river’s bend
Near the cabin that was so quiet
With faulty plumbing
And an occasional visit
from the bartender you picked up
while watching the game.

Tasted like the hot springs
Skinny dipping with the girls
Laughing at our thighs
and slippery sexual energy
That was wasted on some guy from  Wisconsin

Gold bubbles rising in the heat
Sexual fizz
Freedom from the day
Hot heat
Hot and stupid
Blissfully ignorant

Fumbling through the beginnings of adulthood
Fumbling for zippers
Fumbling bra clasps
Fumbling for door handles
Fumbling for tent flaps

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3 Responses to East Tennessee

  1. theluckycricket says:

    Agreed. You should start this up again… I think I’m gonna restart mine as well…

  2. theluckycricket says:

    You need to start this blog thing up again, Lizzie!!

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