The Bitch from Wichita
The bitch from Wichita came in on tuesday
snapping fingers, waving frantic arms and shouting
"give me this" and 'give me that
I want it now, I want it fast"
I'd had enough, my blood was coursing crossgrain
I began to hate her voice, her face, her name...what was her name?
I grabbed her by the collar of her cheaply studded duster
and I kissed her on the mouth a full and heartfelt count of three
It took her just a while to breathe again, once I set her free
she swayed there in the nonexsistant early morning breeze
Her eyes were smiling as she left, forgetting why she came
she must have found what she needed.....Damn. What was her name?
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.