3 Poems
1

There you sit with that smug look on your face.
Not a trace of remorse,
you screwed him up good didn’t you?
You always come up smelling like roses.
You turn on the TV;
there is this cute little thing in lace
She makes a million bucks
just to shake her butt in your face.
You reach for your drink; throw it down your throat.
Life is good. Your son is scoring some expensive shit.
The bitch is at the party eyeing the big time dicks.
You can’t sleep, you toss and turn, you burn.
The light is on, darkness seeps through the sheets.
Yesterday a man on the street called out your name
Familiar faces haunt your dreams, drive you insane
Nothing that a drink can’t fix. Life is good.
Tomorrow if he shows up you’ll pat him on his back.
And he can come up and kiss your ass.
You sit there on that high backed chair
In a suit, in the air condition room with flowers
That never will wilt, with nerves of steel
And a heart of stone. Power oozes through every pore.
A flick of the wrist and a life comes undone.
You worked your way up and now its payback time.
Life is good. The wife is on her back, legs in the air.
Screaming her lungs off. There is a hole in her soul
That she never can fill. You ask for a refill. Whiskey.
A stiff one. Get drunk and drive on home.
There is a party on. A girl throws up on you.
Your son is home. Life is good.
You turn on the TV; there is a man with a gun in his hand.
He smiles at you. Shoves the gun in his mouth
And pulls the trigger.
You change the channel. Life is good.

2

She gets a nose job, gets her teeth fixed.
Her breasts sag so she gets a nip and tuck.
Gravities got the better off her butt
A little tightening drives the men wild.
Lines on her face vanish without a trace.
She gets all the fat sucked out
And her skin is as smooth as plastic.
When she takes off her clothes
She really looks like a million bucks.


3
She is busting at the seams
Her clothes can’t hold it in.
She is sweet sixteen
And in-between
She is all tits and ass
That strikes a fine balance
When she comes
She is a long time coming
When she goes
She goes like blazes.
She gives good head
She’s got it made.
She’s got money to burn
She drinks like a fish
And swears like a sailor.
She loves the bright lights
And men who stay the night
She’s got no time to think
She’s young, she is free
She is an easy lay
Her life is a bed of roses
And that’s where they will lay her
When she slits her wrist.

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