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Horatio Alger Abortion

its like sawdust and spun sugar
when im two stepping to that saw blade beat
when they tip their hats
steel boots logging the heart’s blood of soil
bringing us to fruition in a tall glass of
fuck me fuck me
cheap sheets and motel rooms
hookers with a heart of gold
promised land goals
slurred in Ukraine accents
they were polish girls
they wore stars on their cardigans
they loved men with beards in  trucks and
no-dose
stop at the inn, we aren’t full up
saviors born in dumpsters
the clothes hanger birthing that ran up a thigh
just to free her soul
red stains in a bathtub
clotting this Horatio Alger parable
we are weary travelers
looking deep into wells
trying to discern truth from beauty
listening to hymnals
to gospels
to god in a pulpit with a blind eye
and i saw you that night
in a vinyl booth
buying drinks
for your faded glory
for your good ole boy spirit
for your destiny to never be more
than a lost cause
in a local disillusion                                                                                                                                                                             we are abortions of our fore father’s tomorrow
today is just sage bush and opium

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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