when we walk in a pack
we jangle like janitors
our keys swinging with our hips
the sound of defiance.
we are the working class.
the tough guys in the opening sequence
strutting to our next drink
in slow motion like.
we own this town with
our low expectations and
open bar tabs.
our work boots and
dirty t-shirts.
daughters love us and
daddys hate us and
we are drunk and
indifferent
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