The Gonzo Wolf

Nearly beaten by a box, but I won in the end.

Beautiful evening with a slight breeze; exhausted perfection.

I’m calling this Porch Swing Poetry, but it’s really an excuse to write about the two drunk dudes I can hear talking about me seventy feet away; easily.

They can’t believe my old,  entitled ass is married to that long, hot bitch who lives over there.

I can’t believe it either, but I guess entitled means white in this neighborhood.

There’s obviously many subtle levels of entitlement to fit the momentary needs of the true racist.

I was born, raised, and spent most of my life dirt-poor. I was enlisted when I served, and even lived in a vehicle for a bit.

If anything, my hearing is entitled af.

It matters not, and he’ll need to borrow some tools in the morning to change this tire.

I guarantee it.

Nooch.