Murder Ballad from Porcelain Country by bulkington

They met in that bar by the highway,
The one without cocktails or Schlitz.
They drank and they talked in the neon
And they yelled over jukebox bullshit.
She’d been divorced and remarried
Then divorced and now single again.
She said, “Men are dogs, I’m not sorry.
Why should I waste my time on them?
I don’t waste time on money or men.”

The bar closed at 2:00 but they stayed there.
The bartenders knew who they were.
She laughed when he said, “You got good hair.”
He laughed when she shouted or cursed.
He’d worked in the mines since November,
Though he’d taken some classes in Ag.
He said, “I’ll go back to school whenever.
But money is really a drag.
Yea, working is always a drag.”

They found south of town an old trailer
That was open to wind and to rain.
The roof had caved in to the weather
But no one had noticed the change.
They wondered about who had lived there
While they held hands in his Tacoma.
There were plaster and tile on the furniture
And pictures of folds on the wall:
People who’d once stood so tall.

The bar saw them meeting each weekend
To recap the whole stupid week
And then drunkenly call his ex-girlfriends,
Hang up, have a laugh, and more drinks.
They kept sitting and laughing for weeks.
They kept laughing and drinking for weeks.
They kept drinking and sitting for weeks.
They kept sitting and laughing for weeks.
They kept laughing and drinking for weeks.
They kept drinking and sitting for weeks.

• Folk
• Chattanooga