“I suppose it was just old,
I suppose it was just its time,
or maybe it was only some stray image,
twisted minute of a dream,
broken bit of a story I've taken
for memory. I could do it,
I think. It's like religion that way.
You simply begin
to believe.”
More from Joe Wilkins
“they loved us, those stars. They must have, anyway, for they did what no one did, what…”
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“they leaned into everything: cigarettes and stories, nips of whiskey, / laughter like…”
“And we danced / with tall grass, wind, and sunrise, drove the next day a two-lane that…”