Rattled beat—Moonlit, barking dogs, coyotes...distance, hair disheveled, fried eggs, potatoes, biscuits, sausage gravy and odd connections in the air—Old white dining with big black, grey, fat, muscles, goat-t—speaking infectiously...I can’t order—I’m out of time—time hasn’t started —I am between, beyond—people look crazy—play roles—waitress say’s, “we have coffee and cinnamon rolls” ...the coffee was terrible, the cinnamon roll wasn’t sweet and not enough butter or sugar—but the Rattler still loves you, sweet baby doll, so does every hipster and the sun shines for you—remember that—peace.
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