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Mark Burr


you would think that when
somebody starts drink-
ing they would know
when to stop.
But she don’t.
She was lit
on whiskey.
She drinks it with wine
that’s pink and bruised
and matches her eye
it creeps up
on her, the
grapes creep up her vine.
They ferment her mind.
They tell her its okay
to cry to Patsy Cline,
That no man is
Johnny Cash
to her Penny
She’s got her mother’s job
and a business degree,
who cares if the stars don’t shine
nowhere but on her tv,
She’s got pink wine and odes
to better times. 

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