they’ve all asked and
i’ve sworn to secrecy on
the sex of mockingbirds
who never fly south
too good to move on or
too lazy to put forth the effort
a life of coke and leisure
i pleasure their company with mine
allowing myself to be chopped
broken down and then snorted
dirty hundreds or crisp twenties
corners of torn match books from QT
brown liquor numbs this
brown boy’s blues
clinking of ice cubes in
crystal tumblers
snapping pictures posting on
instagram and tumblr
ill never speak on the affairs or
encounters or the events that
circumstance and southern lust
privies me for
to kill a mockingbird is
cowardly where i’m from
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