Unalloyed

Unalloyed Last night in a deserted field owned by a nearby metals plant in Alloy, WVa. amidst slag heaps and piles of coal over grown with weeds I played my guitar for you like a madman Until the strings burned and creased the tips of my fingers and my shoulder ached, till finally the music played out and all I could hear was the pick dryly clicking over the strings like crickets sing... An old song I only sang before I met you and after you went away. —T. Paige Dalporto 69 ...