Barroom Betty

Her lips were wet,

Her hips wide-set,

Her voice rasped deep and coarse.

º

Her eyes were shrewd,

Her thighs tattooed,

Her tits a tour de force.

º

Her scent of beer,

She bent my ear,

She’d recently divorced.

º

With glee I reeled,

When she revealed

The absence of her drawers.

º

My world a blur,

“Would you prefer,”

I slurred “My place or yours?”

 º

But once inside,

She robbed me blind,

That two-bit Trojan Whorse.