Friday, 5 August 2016

poetry 2016 / 080


She called it 'Butterscotch'
but honestly? I call it mousey
though it was long and clean;
the sort of hair
to turn heads in a strip club
and we all like the £10 minimum
stuff in our G-string.
I dated her for three weeks
until she moved out of the spare bedroom
and into mine. All downhill
from there. I like my women
like I like my newspaper:
Independent, though even that's gone
now and I never could get on board
with the online perusal of copy
when my notebook screen is covered in biro
from the daily crossword.

© Rachel Green 2016

Thank you for stopping by


Bragi Stringbreaker said...

I know your pain. She called it wisdom. I called it OMFG

Rachel Green said...

Ha! Truth indeed.

Stephanie Wright said...

Well, that does it. You've said all I could ever hope to say with this one. <3 Brilliant.