Sitting in a seventy-five year old bar in Monroe. A joint my ole man use to get drunk in and fight. Guys who had fifty pounds on him. Sometimes he won some times he got beat down. The You and I bar. He started bringing me in here when I was about five. When the memory of hitchhiking across the country on a two week leave from the Air Force was still wet and vital. The girls still sound like they would just as soon kick your ass as fuck you and there is likely not much difference between the two. I fell asleep here once when I was six and my little brother was four. I was supposed to keep an eye on him. I kept trying to stay awake because I thought they would kick me out thinking I was drunk. My pappy was playing pool. Memories fascinate me. They are like looking back past a type of death to a wholly other life. When you can accomplish that in peace it is transfigurative. They are playing Dean Martin on the house stereo. Standing on the corner watchin all the girls go by.....wtf.
Leo Todd Jarret
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