We don't exactly have a back yard in this place; we have a peculiar allotment of lumps of grass, weeds, moss, and cement, with a kind of metal arrangement of frames that could have been used for drying laundry but may also represent some past effort at gardening. At the moment the contractors are mostly using it, like the driveway, as a staging area. On the neighbor's side of the chain-link, however, we have a tree that I am looking forward to making the spring acquaintance of. By that time I should have unearthed my camera. My phone does not take terrible pictures, but I feel weird about it.
( Deal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairs. )
It was not the song off Rain Dogs (1985) that made the most immediate impression on me when
lesser_celery introduced me to the album in 2005, but "Gun Street Girl" seems to have emerged as one of my favorite songs by Tom Waits. Now the rain like gravel on an old tin roof—Burlington Northern pulling out of the world. Now a head full of bourbon and a dream in the straw, and a Gun Street girl was the cause of it all, a Gun Street girl was the cause of it all. The train scenes in Murder Is My Beat (1955) put me in mind of it, as well as it is one of the songs that my brain has filed for walking and driving. The way I sing it has drifted from Waits over the years, which is the folk tradition.
( Deal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairs. )
It was not the song off Rain Dogs (1985) that made the most immediate impression on me when
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