For Gram Parsons by Melanie Browne

Tonight I decorate

my bar with paper lanterns,

and listen to The Burrito Brothers’

Dark end of the street

I finish off a Bud Light

and staple the

last glowing orb in place

I stare up at

The lanterns,

their colors like

a dirty cantina

paper devils,

ominous and dangerous,

throw our silhouettes

around the room,

each one becomes

UFO-like,

Spinning off

Into the wilderness,

until it’s

only the night,

the imaginary stars,

and more

luke-warm beer