by Rick G
I left my demons back in Iowa
and yet some other motherfucker set a match to his
25 miles from my new home
4 acres burn
smoke fills the sky like dark rain clouds
the only way out is down the mountain
and I ain’t leaving
The constant smell of campfire
even inside the house the taste is still in my mouth
I’ve lost everything so many times
the thought of losing everything to fire
never crossed my mind
but I stood in the direction of Chimney Rock
and counted seventy-five fire trucks
the Blue Ridge Parkway might be fucked
so don’t ask about my demons
my demons are fine
ask about Baby, backed into her corner
that bitch might burn til March
You’ll find Rick G. & his lady love riding their motorcycles around the Devil’s Whip. If it’s not on fire.
