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The Parlor

Scott Whitby, 2021


It was an old grocery store

But now just ransacked

Stinking of mold and dirt

Across from the railroad track


Better days were long before

Selling supplies and a snack

Cash was legal tender

A joy to think back


It seemed it was gone forever

That old stove and smokestack

Nailed shut and waiting decay

Floors with worn shellac


But music had a say

And came screaming from the back

Or snuck in unnoticed

Gospel in a Cadillac


Mike and Jimmy sang their songs

Another and another, never off-track

Brotherly Love and Farmin’ Man

Their words like an almanac


Andy Tanas once a month

Played like a crackerjack

Sing like a gentle bird

But his guitar brutally attacked


The Fajita brothers

And the Parlor was packed

Keith and Mike and Danny

With Kevin at quarterback


But things like this can never stay

They always seem to crack

Even sneaking screaming music

With its burning light fades to black


But it’ll sit and smolder

Quietly planning its next attack

And storm again in Puryear

And howl like a maniac

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