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Here Again Already

  • Writer: Justin H. Briggs
    Justin H. Briggs
  • Apr 26
  • 1 min read

God get me outta Ada

Feeling like a baked potata

Crusted crinkle roasted skin

Soft fluffy vulnerable within

Did not come here by choice

No one hears my feeble voice

When I tell anyone anything

Of which they know nothing

I cried on the phone line

Tears chose their own time

Making good steady speed

Driving a beast of a stead

To which I fed the wrong grain

She broke down then in the rain

Three spent gallons of fuel

Wrong kind bought by this fool

From ninety to five miles per hour

Tornado wrenched down tower

Thankful in the writing to be alive

Dodging vehicles losing drive

An eighty-dollar uber due East

To find again I know the least

Not sure what I’m afraid uh

Dear god get me outta Ada


“Tornado Downed Tower, Constant Avenue beyond”, JHB 2025

 
 

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©2025 by Justin H. Briggs.

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