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Southern Guilt, Southern Gospel

August 31st, 2020 | 7 min read

By J. Brandon Meeks

“Well, I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt / The beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert. / Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes for my cleanest dirty shirt, / Then I washed my face and combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.”

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