“Sunday”

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Taste the bitter sweet; it rolls off the taste buds like the lemon it was squeezed from

Tequila, sun rise, salt splash and that pucker face, gulp – six down, that’s the sum

Feather like, morning muscles tight, retina red with a sunken look of sleep impaired

Docile, enduring the slump of a hangover, consequences of whiskey and tequila paired

Dry mouth, chapped lips, stomach growls, and its feeding time for the beast inside

Bare box of a fridge, storing condiment packets; time to hit the road for a ride

 

Dim lit small town diner, bacon grease and sausage inhale, nostril-gasm, mhmm coffee

Menu, “No I’ll take the usual” while browsing the fresh baked pies; look, free toffee

Cream colored, bean roasted, white like the foggy mist lingering in the valley

One, two, three stacks of jacks, maple liquid rush, a side of bacon to tally

Sun dazed through unwashed glass, a yawn, and I’m ready to pass

Out of sight, mind, too kind – cash out, tip, a final sip before mass

 

Church bells ringing, singing, perfume lingering outside the open oak doors

Men dazed with their wives, sitting still, updates whisper of the scores

Gathering of the eldest and the youngest, the sinners and the saints

A miracle, it’d be just what the doctor ordered, and the fat lady would faint

Herding the doors as the pasture lets out, the choir sings one last song

The gospel, biblical, don’t ridicule; there is only forgiveness, no right or wrong

 

 

 

 

 

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