John Prine Always Found the Right Words
He wrote about what was there, but also what wasn’t there.
I have never been on the porch that John Prine sings about in “My Mexican Home,” but I feel like I could tell you about it. How it smells in the rain and how I’d get splinters when I’d walk on it barefoot. That fan in the window has a cracked nob. When you set it all the way to three, it rattles and squeaks
