Chicano Poet

Thursday, August 24, 2006

3. The Smell Of Shaved Fish

“I love where Twiggy’s legs culminate.” I said
and you hit me on the shoulder
with your fist.

We were driving to Strawberry Fields,
we were driving to the Dakota,
we were driving the helpless Yoko back home,

fucking Sean had been calling and calling
and getting on our nerves.
You grabbed the cell phone from Yoko

and started yelling, “ Shut the fuck up, Sean,
we’re driving the bitch home right now!”
You threw the phone out the window,

Yoko lunged wildly after it
and almost fell out.
It’s not as if the bitch

doesn’t have enough of John’s money
to buy another one.
Yoko sat back and whined one of her songs.

part 3 of 4


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