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Poetry
Virginia and Crazy
Chris Stafford
Click on the jams, radio on
Scratchy noise and gun shot sound.
Twelve gauge shooting a copperhead
Out the Mustang window.
Bonnie Rait, she sings,
"I am an old woman, named after my mother,"
Where then and there I screech off
Stop at a pay phone to sing and say
All I can think about since
I just heard that song Virginia is you.
Acoustic guitar backup sounds
Always keep close to the quiet background.
I'm a sure star of the American road.
One late drunk night
She whispered close in my ear,
"Take me to your hotel room,
Show me what it's like to be."
Her mama was a prostitute
Married to an outlaw middle class
Pretty decent bootleg whiskey still holding family.
Then when three more times she got remarried
And always said she didn't know no better,
What it is to be, that is.
When I left, she told me,
"Don't forget you boots, Crazy."
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