Scooter-Hair Girl

through the tip jar
where my head lies
I can see with bloodshot
pie eyes
Jagger lips
and teeth
like riptides..
that could rip
or reel me  in.
and...

that skin
that skin
that skin

that only God
could slip on sin.
golden brown
and cast on bones
that roll their own..
voodoo spell

I used to know her well
but that birds flown.
to the southernmost
point in the USA

where stray cats
run faster than
hurricanes
and fig leafs
drop , like guillotines
each time the
sun goes down

that face
that face
that face

that only God
could grace upon
a swan
who wants
no one
to paddle with.

the scooter hair
is just a crowning
flair

the smile,the eyes
the indifferent stare
is what makes
me raise my head
off of the bar
take the tips
stuffed into the jar
run down the street
scooter in sight

I want
to buy a drink
for her.... 

tonight

that smile
that smile
that smile

makes things just right.
scooter-hair girl
i hope you are alright
scooter- hair girl
I'll catch up
to you
some
night.