Outlaws

Blurry Southern Rock night
at the town beach. 
Scent of weed
and sound of horseplay
out by the drainpipe.

Pit’s beating the crap out of Russell again,
Nancy and Linda are screaming,
and I can’t get the front seat of the Celica
back to an upright position
so I can get out of here. 

Sirens
coming closer, closer, then they fade
away.

“How come they turned off?”

Next day we hear that
while we were pissing our pants,
Wally was stabbing Marc two miles away
at the pits.  Argument over two rotten
little brothers and a botched B & E,
two older brothers
messing each other up over honor
and family, which little brother
ratted out the other —

and then Marc died and they caught Wally,
so that’s it.

“So that’s why they turned off.
They went down there.  Damn.
Lucky, huh? Sucks for Marc, though,
and Wally too…” 

Russell chops out a couple of lines for each of us,
and Pit’s the first to bend to the mirror.
“Here’s to Marc!” 

Friendship’s a great thing
at times like these.  We’re gonna go all night again,
play some cards,
boogie down as always to the Brothers
and pretend we’re outlaws,
forever outlaws.