I wish I could have met you
So we could have had a little bit more time
But I am happy you met me when you me
When I was at my best and not my worst.

Because my bad is pretty bad
It’s strip mine scars and poisoned waters
swallowing dilapidated company towns
of cheap row homes with the same two ply doors
where only the chipped asbestos tile
And scavenged boards across the broken doors
to break up the monotony of arc lights.

My best ain’t that much better
It’s like a popup Vegas night
At a local VFW bingo hall
With 75 drafts Miller genuine drafts
And a bartender who was gorgeous in her twenties
An all you can eat buffet of church hall leftovers
With suicide cherries dissolving in a jar.
I’m a good time in a bad time.
I’m the American dream gone to college.
I’m the soldier boy returned home to a bunch of traitors.