Chicano Poet

Monday, October 22, 2007

Rocky Raccoon


Rocky propped himself up on his elbow,
his furry tail under the sheets,
one foot sticking out at the end of the bed

like a sore thumb.
“Boy, was you dumb!”
Lil was telling him,

like women are wont to do.
Hell, he already knew it,
but he weren’t about to tell her she was right.

You never tell a woman that!
You go about your business,
pretend there was never a fight.

In a few weeks, you’ll limp out of town,
both your eyes still black.
The sun setting behind the saloon.


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