Saturday, November 29, 2014

Morbid Folly

I sat her precious sailor

on my soiled Miss's lap

he asked me for permission

she asked me for a match

I went on playing cribbage

like I knew no other task

she asked me for a cigarette

she begged me for a chance

I put on my brass knuckles

and I rolled the dice in hand

I moved my peg around the board

he rubbed against her pants.

he climbed up on her

best he could

with his feet

cuffed to her chair.

She took his weight

upon her waist

like a frightened

Nightingale.

I knew my next roll was my last

snake eyes stared up

and through me.

I shot my pistol

in my mouth

and left them

to the night.





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