04 April 2013

Harlan County - a justified poem

Harlan County ain't a bad place to be,
            if you can stand the corruption of public officials.
A town where an election ain't over until the dead have voted and the comatose polled.
Where a man thrice imprisoned votes more times than an honest one.
Where a bargain holds more than face value and debt is never repaid.

Harlan County ain't a bad place to be if you can the illicit drugs;
Cocaine came to Harlan the day a man fell from the sky.
A lawman's father and a career criminal abetting the crime and protecting it's committor.
A marshal grown in a house paid for by drugs and considers himself above it all,
            resentful from where he came.

Harlan County is not a bad place to be for there is Francis' fried chicken and Ava and
            cheerleaders and hardworking men that died in the mines and a clogging criminal
            who grins as he dances.
And then you open your eyes to find a shotgun pointed at your chest for trying to live the
            only life you've ever lived and the angriest man you've ever known you only salvation.