, , , , , , , , , ,




Pulp fiction vixen,
you’ve stolen my heart.
Sultry suggestions,
whiskey and wine,
destroyed my defences
tore me apart.

I played it tough
like a hard boiled dick.
You played it cool
in your form fitting dress,
just one of your kisses —
and gone, oh so quick.

I’ll reach for the bottle
in my bottom desk drawer.
My answer to problems,
affairs of the heart —
if one drink won’t fix it,
I’ll try it some more.

I’ll suck on a cigarette
watch smoke float away.
Think of your perfume
still on my lapel —
chalk one for experience,
the end of a day.

The chapter’s not over,
the case isn’t solved.
When the facts are all sorted,
you’re caught dead to rights —
I’ll say, “So long, Sister.”
my dream has dissolved.


Sample  my books for free — proceeds feed the homeless:
Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
Podcasts: http://buff.ly/1Pxlf9p
Image: http://buff.ly/2bVwYzP