The speakers squawking
Some loud noisome non-tune
Words so strange in my ear
They must be from some
distant
Pestilential planet
The middle-aged woman
With the face stamped
“Made in China”
Trudging past
A reluctant teen-age boy
In tow
She sings along so sweetly
In a soft soprano lilt
With that band of raucous rockers
Whaling from the speakers
overhead
In an accent coated
With honey from Kentucky
JRMcF
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
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