Jukeboxing

Popping bones

swinging and jivin with

this stranger. 

Ain’t never felt like this- 

the rush.

He punched one, then two bruising the 

surface of ivory keys.

They thumped to the beat, hittin four

corners.

A crowd gathered in horror; they

danced until the floor bled red.

All this over a cowboy tipping his

Stetson to the wrong woman.

Still charmed her into my F150.

© privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2017.

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