I'm From a Very Small Town,

I'm From a Very Small Town

by james bezerra

There was that time that Robbie punched a nazi

or

got punched by a nazi

or

punched a guy he called a nazi,

but

either way,

that guy was a squid.

It was out at that rented

middle-of-nowhere

doublewide.

Rented by

those two guys

whose names I never really knew

but whose names smashed together

sounded like a band.

And they only allowed pot

smoked in their barcalounger

living room

because they thought

that sweet smell

of the Amazon burning

got high school girls slick

horny and mindless.

I remember thinking

that I thought then

they must have been thinking

of fuck-ready lab rats

and how they probably

also thought

guys with barcalounger living rooms

could ever

get laid

if the girls weren't already

in high school, drunk,

and high.

.

.

.