Up Against the Wall

my ex called the other day
she made small talk at first
like how have you been
the last thirty odd years
and I was thinking about you
and do you still think of me
and remember that time
and did you ever grow up
and quit kissing your mama’s ass
what kind of job do you have
are you still a Jerry Jeff
wannabe cowboy boot kickin
still drinking out of your Stetson
leather vest wearin’ getting drunk
on Saturday whooho worthless
sleeping on the couch Sunday
sonofagun

strumming that internal G chord
I knew there was still a reason
to like country music.

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14 Responses to Up Against the Wall

  1. nectarfizz says:

    (grin) Sometimes poems have bite…and when they bite they make an impression.

  2. Paul says:

    Yeehah! That is so good, Scot. That is what i was talking about, you are the real deal poet. i was moaning in the comment box below about how rarely i see something that is so well made that it knocks me out, and that’s it, brilliant!!!!! it just turns on ‘quit lickin your mamas arse and away it goes like a stomp spin dirt raisin’ knees up with a nice long sunday afterwards, that is a brilliant poem, perfect fusion of form and content, everything in it works so well that it cant you see it working, no cracks, no wobbles, perfect!

  3. johemmant says:

    Well Paul’s comment is an artform in itself, love that dirt raisin knees up 🙂 but to you, Scot, yes, a great poem, perfectly formed, lots of attitude, can see the cowboy now.

  4. Scot says:

    Thanks all
    I enjoyed writing this one and fun to read aloud

  5. enigma says:

    oh ,this made me cringe,and get sort of protective of you, which is a measure of how good it is.

  6. Scot says:

    enigma
    ha–thanks…

  7. Pris says:

    This is great, Scot…perfect right down to the country music closing.

  8. Scot says:

    Thanks so much Pris–glad you liked it.

  9. Bob says:

    Brings back memories of Jerry Jeff… I saw him at Grady Gammage Auditorium in Tempe when I was an undergrad. Saved my beer money for six friggin’ weeks to see him, and when he walked onto the stage in his black satin jacket and Nikes… he damn near fell down… stinko drunk and pissed off at the world. “Up Against The Wall, Redneck Suckers!” And a legend died…

    Great poem, Scot… I recall similar conversations my damn self! Yup… you’re a poet.

  10. Scot says:

    Bob
    I had the same experience with other legends–when they fall, they affect many.

  11. Sara says:

    This one made me smile. I like country music but don’t know who Jerry Jeff Walker is, will have to look him up. This was certainly a country song put to poetry.

  12. Scot says:

    Sara
    country song/slice of life–bout the same. Thanks for reading!

  13. I grew up listening to country music in my parents van. We had an 8 track player which was really cool at the time. My favorites were Loretta Lynn, Dolly Pardon and Kenny Rogers.

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