Here Again Already
- 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