THESE APPALACHIAN HILLS
ginger is never here/ he tends bar in asheville, and he’s a drug dealer/ like i give a shit/
people make their own decisions/ consequences come and go/ he’s a great fuck, and we spent two weeks here a long time ago/
appalachia is about many things/ a long time ago is one of those things/ time in appalachia always wins, it will wear you down just like ginger’s creek has worn the stones down to loneliness which is never vague, but is littered with graves, ruins, and old bones from the civil war/
ginger is always telling me to get my white ass up here just to get away and so i do/ appalachia is a maple thrush/ makes a big flutter and ruffled noise, then flies away/ up here, the blue ridge is about suffering, and each light step/
no electric/ water is ginger’s creek in the back/ the out house suffers flies in the summer, and will freeze your nuts off in the winter/
i have never not seen bull snakes/ the baby rats are safe until the bull snake comes, and the bull snake always comes/