PonY PayRoLL boNes talKin three Travis Tritt Poems
by Matthew PonY Bones

Travis Tritt Poem One

I was down In Marietta Georgia with Travis Tritt. My soul time traveled inside my ghost. Fortunate Timings. Maybe I was there when he said he was gonna outwit the gospel choir---when he snuck off with that 17 year old girl and he was only 13 years of old and he got his heart bruised up real bad in the sunny Florida.

Here’s a quarter cal someone who cares Mr Tritt intoned to me. I swallowed that quarter and I choked to death in the kudzu field right above the Chattahoochee river. The sky was quavering blue

Years later, after my death, I was in hell roosting and roasting. Hell still has payphones. I gave Travis Tritt a call.

He picked up his cell phone. I said on my crackly brimstone line “Are you someone who cares?”

Travis Tritt Poem Two

bruised up real bad in the sunny yoked swallowed that quarter and I choked to his Marietta, georgia with tha pay phone ripped outta tha box

He is so heavy twang!---you recall singing those sordid lines“are you someone who listen, rain might give a damn--”

My doubt shifts into the focused panic of birds flying South For the winter

I was cussing
---pulling her dress up
girl, yea girl I cares!

Quarter fell outta tha hole in my blue jean pocket
        left pocket

dirty light bright blathering sadness

eyes o of your lies

Smell those Chattahoochee RiVeR shadows and be scared

Gilding abandoned Railroading Love
and you

WoE tha Man who Loves yoU Mr. TriTT--

TraVis Tritt poEm ThrEE

                I was just A sorrY Roadkill souL in tha spiriT worLd


                Commotion of gumption and tha Lord spoke to Me To action!

I am the was ghosT who ghost possessed Travis Tritt, countrY sangeR. We did some mean thangs in tha thistle meanwhiLes.

        He goT a wild haiR notion what waza happenIn, so he broKe intO
A baptist church up in tha North Georgia hills-- dranK half a gallon of
                Cabin Still BourbOn ---
                and threw me uP ouT tha guLLeT. He did me gooD…though yoU can’t kiLL a ghosssT.

HiS confedeRacY SouL ouTLawed Me from his God Clayed bodY.

        Reflection: At leasT though I did Not have no obligations at explain to them CountY coPs whY I wasz drunK on bourboN and broKen into tha House oF God vomiting on the peWs and puLpit.

        Is he gonna tell tha good ole boYs “OfficeRs, I had ta exorcisE somE kinda ghost that was possession my meatlY bodY.”

TriTe--- yet I muscLe saY--We shaLL meeT agaiN Mr. TriTT

        I made you do soMe meaN nasty thanGs that nighT.