Frank E Gibbard Posted April 15, 2013 Share Posted April 15, 2013 My office, it's the crack of noon, me looking cross a desk of clutter push desolutely at the mildewed roll and butter of last night's late discarded last supper. Oh Christ was I hungry like a con at a first cathouse met upon release. This yellow grease near unleashes the now swilling last belt of booze that I swallow before I slump for a few zees. Jeez right then I could eat a longhorn's steak with the horns still attached. Trixie is soon dispatched for coffee and doughnuts, for this shamus needs his guts filled hitting mean streets you can get killed out there. Didn't even look long at those young legs and a man could die for dem pegs. Back she comes cheery with goodees for your's truly's belly. "Sweetie," I complain, "you've got custard damn it and I wanted jelly." No jury would convict if I even shot that godamm girl she didn't cut the mustard so those squishy messes and stupid can both go right to hell. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted April 15, 2013 Share Posted April 15, 2013 Frank, Sounds like you've been reading too many Mickie Spillane books. Now this was fun to read. ~~Thanks, Tink Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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