Polaroid Blues


Polaroid Blues

Standing by the window, Polaroid in hand, the man stares out at the hubcap rolling in the sand. Now the screen door, she’s whistelin’ a sad and lonely tune; and the bastard dogs outside start howlin’ at the moon.

Midnight clouds roar and the sky comes apart at the seams. The man tips his cowboy hat, looks up and sees where Jesus hides his dreams; they glitter gold, blink purple-pink, and he’s sure the girl in the picture winked.



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