verbiage

gravel slips over his tongue:
a drunken blues song which might have been sung
         if it weren’t for his pride
         hung long and wide
                    sprung fresh from a forehead
blunt and snide

 

his voice is stone
                    if granite is young
his breath wrung and raspy
a tired accordion
                    like one cigarette too many
                     like one drink too drunk
a loaded gun
leather-lunged

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