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Sketchy but Alluring

Updated on May 11, 2022

The wages of sin can be near death.

Temptress of the night.
Temptress of the night. | Source

"Beware of what looks too good to be true, always look to stay true to what's good."


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.


© 2017 Matthew Frederick Blowers III


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