Four Line Blues Poems

Troubling jobs get day whiskey.
Many roads, letters, faces.
Never feeling, crying, taking.
No sorry hearterd past.

-K-

I've gambled pay.  Lost my
Job.  She's trying the 
Preacher hearted despair.  I 
Ain't about tired "we" eyes.

-K-

Any trouble I borrowed I now own.
Been left for empty.  Ain't gonna
Save face trying for sorrow.
A lying goodbye tomorrow.

-K-

Feeling so lonely.  Fool mind
Running wrong.  Woman, whiskey,
Dollar, pistol--all trouble.
Tears done, morning sleep.

-K-

Leaving work.  Taking my dollar bottle
On down the street.  I gambled 
A suitcase of sorrow.  Gonna put
My past hurting on the shelf.

-K-

Friday night gambled on being gone.
Monday morning pay the aching empty.
Where have I put my lost tomorrows?
Highway gone-stole my yesterdays.

-K-

Monday morning lonesome aching moan.
Empty, dead work.
I need money.
Can't trouble about a misleading blame.

-K-

So Monday's heart fell
Down blind.  It's a lonely
Thing to find despair hanging.
Coming away hurting.
          -for Corrine-

-K-

Rain makes for empty feelings.
She's crying trouble.
I'll be crying sad.
Past memories won't find out.

-K-

Sunday's tears blame Friday's crazy.
Monday's prison tomorrow.
I feel despair knowing this whiskey
From town is where the Preacher been.

-K-