Bottle Caps rolling This is a two piece mind Muddy Trails that follow down Only dying For a fresh look back Empty felt pens are screaming Beer cans Sulking and scheming Pages woefully dreaming Through some cast Iron sky Cigarettes Bound to smoke them Clear the air As I write Bare faced dialect Watered down Ever gasping for a voice Less numb Every mans softly aging Poems I like Strangely changing Spend it Patiently waiting For this books fractured sound Jasmine Allen. ©