Sketchy but Alluring

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Her face was sketchy

much like the kind you find

on a post office wall

but she had a smile that

could embrace the world

with a hug.

She was built like

the Taj Mahal

with a whole lot up top

and two ivory columns

to support it all.

She came on to me like

one of those burrs

stuck on your trousers

that you can't get off.

I was six shots to the wind

blowing somewhere out of

a kentucky barrel

well aged and though 
I knew better

I was beyond caring.

She sat on my lap

like a puppy

begging to be petted

and started a slow grind

across my Perry Ellis attire.

I parried with

a drink for her

and moved her

to the stool next to me

to avoid the scolding looks

of the other bar patrons

who looked like they all

had just came off the boat

at Ellis Island.

It was a sleazy dive

and it fit my mood that night

because my life had taken

a long splash in that

commode they call misery.

I had had my share

of painted ladies

both as an artist

filling canvas with

dreamy personifications

and as of late

a lonely soul.

But there were tiny details

that started to skew

my last call, date with her.

A hypodermic device

that I spotted in her purse

as she dug for her smokes

and a light circle of

pale flesh on her ring finger.

The barkeep discreetly

mouthed the word "Trouble"

at me while she was busy

sucking the dregs of her fifth

gin and tonic

and so I politely excused

myself from her

to pay mother nature a call.

She mumbled at me

to hurry back

in a slurred soprano sigh

as I beat feet to the

porcelain gods.

Three minutes later

as I went to slip out

the back door

I spotted her

across the room

turning the fiction

of her status into friction

on another misfortunate

male patron's lap

Just as suddenly

the main door

slammed open

like a gunshot

against the wall

and a behometh of a man

barged in

eyes scanning the tables

and rage turning 
his face to scarlet

when he saw his unfair maiden

wooing another man.

No one heard me exit

as the dull thud of fists

and obscenities

mixed with broken glass

erupted and brought chaos
to that already  
besotted establishment.

Two days later the morning rag

left by my motel room door

headlined the sad tale of

one bar patron hospitalized

in the intensive care ward

and one enraged hubbie

who became a resident of

the local cross bar hotel

that sat just two 
blocks away from

where I was staying.

I tossed the paper in 
front of another hotel door

as I headed back to my

humble abode

not as a broken man

but far wiser.

One must beware of

temptresses of the night

for far too many come

with demons who will make your

dallying with their slaves

a living hell.

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