Thursday, June 3, 2010

Verse: the ballad of @lucyspet

(for Kris, with a K, who understands the appeal of Blakroc, Baltimora and other things that begin with the letter B)

here comes
the night again

sliding out
of his duster

and cozying up
like we're old friends

plying me
with vodka

and telling me
i'm holy

that one day
i'll scorch the sky

and the world will know
my righteousness

thinking he
can slip one in

when i'm
not looking

but i'm
not having it

about to drag him

make him
walk it off

i think he
forgets himself

i'm not
so easily persuaded

and there is
nothing i can't lick

can i get
an amen?

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