The hand pointed to everything inside
Joe's bulging rear: a dead gerbil, a stack
of Popeye comic books, an entire rack
of antique Irish snooker balls. Joe tried
to deny the x-ray's painful story.
He shook his throbbing head in disbelief
and howled Oh God! He'd never felt such grief
or encountered anything so gory.
If only joe could wrap his mind around
last night's events. He'd had a slough of drinks
at some party and chatted up some minx
who slapped his face and swore her friends would pound
the daylights out of him for words like that.
He told her to stuff it and called her fat.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment