RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Thursday, August 19

SONG OF THE DAY: At The Hotel


app free roadside motels 
surgically bypassed by interstate progress 
a couple decades back, but still 
dying on the blue highway vine, 
where you still stick a key into metal door knob 
kick open heavy metal door with low caliber dents 
and it smells like 1989 still 
doubt they got hbo max 
but you’re gonna test the bed bounce 
and one of y’all gonna leave a footprint 
in the drywall because that was the plan 
all along
in a spot like that 
but it’s all good because you paid cash 
and even if they got a cleaning lady 
who notices the damage 
you’re already 100 miles into 
the future 
drunk off 
life off 
the beaten data path 
worn as fuck 
because some folks never left it 
time to get back 
to john and jane 
dozy doeing 
happily along the edges 
of the thicc earth 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Are you like a poet laureate or something? You can be my poet laureate and I will give you laurels of dandelions, buttercups, honeysuckle, train spikes, keys, and/or spray paint, whatever I can find. No crowns of kicks though, cause... you know, metal plates to replace cranium and all. I think currently I am the only living member of my immediate family to not have a metal plate somewhere in the body. Yall fucking terminators. Yep, I'm riding a data path. Now I'm gonna get emails and ads about who knows. Thanks for being so flipping inspriring I can't escape posting a dumb comment (aren't all) and somehow getting tracked. I wish I was a deer, cause I'd never have to rent a room, and I already have to worry about being shot so that wouldn't change. Maybe I should learn how to bed better in landscape. But people are john and jane, though all our unknown last names are doe.