vodka-dews

flowing hair brushing bare shoulders
skin-tight faded jeans
four-inch heels baby!
ah, the spent years
cheap thrills
throaty joplin
bar hopping
bumming
quarters for the jukebox,
bopping.
swilling bar brand vodka
unless someone else was buying...

bring on white russians!
goddamn russians-
drank a whole army
under the table
with a chaser
of lovely black beauties
loved those niggahs a little too much...
party girl,
high flying barfly
winner of one wet t-shirt contest.
trashed my best pair come-fuck-me red high-heels
ever-

remember when it was
just us
drinking screwdrivers?
OJ ran out
switched to mountain-dew
called 'em vodka-dews
two fifth's lost our heads
for three days
sicker than shit
spewing hendrix status,
hugging porcelain
to the shrill of electric guitars
then started all over again.

lived for fridays
whole weekends,
all-nighters,
filled with every kind of mind bend
we could get our hands on.
those were the best
vodka-dew
fucked-up
purple haze days
me and you...


© Copyright claimed 2007, Debra Marlar