(All after the fact; these are all real women that I have met over the years.)
I could probably have your girl,
you being dead and all,
but if I could prioritize
every single thing in the world,
fucking your girl would be dead last,
because I believe that she could suck
every last bit of life, blood and money
out of me in one throw.
I could probably have your girl,
but then she’d get ambitious,
and I’d probably end up building her a house,
against my better judgment,
because she’s just so damn sexy and all,
by then she’d be a walking mountain of jewelry,
and I’d be a laughing stock,
right up to when her brother killed me, and you got her back.
I could probably have your girl,
I can see she’s sick of your sorry ass,
me being a little older, more prosperous,
show the girl a little bit of the world,
put some new duds on her, get her a decent haircut,
put those beauties into a sexy bra for a change,
she’d think I was all four Beatles wrapped into one,
but I’m a little busy this month,
so she’ll have to wait,
tell her I said hi.
I could probably have your girl,
you’ve been making her wait so long,
the girl’s ready to tip, brother,
you had your chance, looks like you let it go by,
she’s looking so pretty today too,
why don’t I just go over and tell her,
how’d you like that?
I think I just might.
I could probably have your girl,
raise your boy too, if I wanted to,
what can you do for him?
Can you dig it? “Baby listen to me,
let’s get the boy a good education,
he’s a good boy, he’ll make us proud,
and I’ll treat you like a queen,
and your mom and dad too.”
That’s all it’d take, she’s good looking too,
good cook even. That’d be mean, though.
I could probably have your girl,
you hanging back, I don’t blame you,
all she does is work, work a job,
take care of her old parents, no time
for fun, no time for you.
But I could hire a poor couple
to take care of the parents,
put us all in a better place too,
and she could quit that damn job,
that’s a good deal right there,
she’d take it.
I could probably have your girl,
I’ve seen that look in her eye,
when you come in the room,
seen your dog, too, big dog,
strong jaws, seen him
when you go in the back yard,
seen him hunch down and wet himself.
Big man, I could have your girl.
Don’t like it? Just remember,
I’m not your woman or your dog,
and I don’t need any help
to introduce you to my friend the river,
so if you don’t like it, big man,
you can make your home with him.
June, 2008
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2 comments:
Don't quit your day job.
No, that would be foolish. Almost as foolish as writing poetry in the first place.
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