Nikki Lynn

I came to Oregon when I’s five years old
Here they say “ain’t” ain’t a word
Yet, my grandfather ain’t gonna cotton
To this new-fangled, uppity wordin’
He told me, “Can’t never could to nuttin’
Can’t ain’t bake no bread, ain’t fry no bacon.”

Ain’t twangs so well for us old dust bowl okies
It is comfy cozy like ya’all and tweren’t,
Ice box, freshlight, and warshin’ machine
That is, till my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Barnes
Made me write my elegy to ain’t, 1000 lines
Ain’t isn’t a word.. Ain’t takes me home again

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