Speeding Through The Country
Cocaine Country (2) 🐴
Eighty miles an hour through a brick wall in a pickup. Shirtless with the radio up, pointed east on steel and gravel crunch.
The cowboy’s were speeding through the country, after they had all forgotten about John Wayne.
The Budweiser sweat through itself and slipped through a rope-worn grip showering the barefoot girls ankles sitting on the tailgate with the sweet spray of summer, then quit spinning in the dirt.
The cigarette smoke hung in the humid night mixing with the static flicker of a gas station sign, under a neon moon and a distant southern two-step from a jukebox supporting an old drunk with a fistful of quarters.
His gold chain hung underneath the ripped muscle tee, and her crooked tooth smile turned every boys head, and left them spinning until dawn and forever when they think of that night.
Everyone was broken, but a fleeting comfort survives in numbers, and they all laugh together at the handshake of a promise — one to make a change, to call their mom, to think for once about the future, to set their compass for heaven, to make it right — when the morning comes.
additionally:
To The Wedding by John Berger had me in a trance
Perfection by Vincenco Latronico flys close to the sun
The Slumber Party Massacre (1982) is a thoughtful slasher movie