11" x 15"
Watercolor & Gouache 

Up in a holler where the sun don’t shine, 
my Papi would brew with a copper line. 

Under an eye, murky of sight, 
he’d sleep through the day and cook through the night.

He learned his craft, from a red nosed man.
Who could fly up the cliffs, with banjo in hand.

They'd drink and they'd dance, more than they aught.
You never heard about him, cause he never got caught.
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