Rochester, public market,
New York, and you see
The woman standing there
With her bags full of shopping
Waiting for her husband to come
And return with the car, with a face
That tells of annoyance and speaks
Volumes. Where the **** is he,
She mutters unaware you can
Hear her as you pack away your
Shopping in the back of your old
Ford. Won’t be long he said,
Be just a moment, she says, her
Voice rising like the fat dame in
The opera house before the curtains
Fall, and here I am waiting and my
Feet aching, my migraine returning
And all he can think about is laying
A bet and going for a drink with that
Logan loon and me here standing like
Some worn out ***** desperate for
A final pickup. She turns around and
Gives you the stare, takes in your skimpy
Skirt, your dyed blond hair, then turns
Away and scratches her *** and moves
Her feet and looks up and down for her
Husband’s returning car. You close
Down the lid of the old Ford and get
Inside and sit and watch the woman
And wonder if she has kids and grand
Kids, or maybe a secret lover, some
Poor schmuck down on his life’s luck.
She swings one of the bags of shopping
In front of her legs, her agitation increasing,
Her face deepening with lines of her frustration.
He knows I don’t like him drinking while he
Drives, I told him if you’re going to drink,
Then I will drive, I don’t want the *******
Cops breathing through the car window on
Me just because of the your drunk reckless
Driving and what does he do? Goes off in the
Car to meet the Logan guy and bet and drink
And me here like some ****** waiting and
My feet aching and the piles giving me hell.
She stops as her husband’s car returns and
He pulls up and gets out real slow and puts
The bags in the back and says nothing, passing
Her by and getting back in his seat and she
Climbing in her side of the car says, Hi Honey,
Did you have a nice drink and bet with Logan?
Yeah, he says, but the horse fell and the beer
Was warm and Logan didn’t show and so I
Drank the warm beer and bet the one horse
And then came here. You? Had a good
Shopping trip? Sure, she says, her voice
Now mellow, a smile on her lips, just got
What we needed and they did my hair.
You watch as off they drive, and as they
Go off the woman gives you the middle
Digit up you sign and a dark black glare.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Rochester, public market,
New York, and you see
The woman standing there
With her bags full of shopping
Waiting for her husband to come
And return with the car, with a face
That tells of annoyance and speaks
Volumes. Where the **** is he,
She mutters unaware you can
Hear her as you pack away your
Shopping in the back of your old
Ford. Won’t be long he said,
Be just a moment, she says, her
Voice rising like the fat dame in
The opera house before the curtains
Fall, and here I am waiting and my
Feet aching, my migraine returning
And all he can think about is laying
A bet and going for a drink with that
Logan loon and me here standing like
Some worn out ***** desperate for
A final pickup. She turns around and
Gives you the stare, takes in your skimpy
Skirt, your dyed blond hair, then turns
Away and scratches her *** and moves
Her feet and looks up and down for her
Husband’s returning car. You close
Down the lid of the old Ford and get
Inside and sit and watch the woman
And wonder if she has kids and grand
Kids, or maybe a secret lover, some
Poor schmuck down on his life’s luck.
She swings one of the bags of shopping
In front of her legs, her agitation increasing,
Her face deepening with lines of her frustration.
He knows I don’t like him drinking while he
Drives, I told him if you’re going to drink,
Then I will drive, I don’t want the *******
Cops breathing through the car window on
Me just because of the your drunk reckless
Driving and what does he do? Goes off in the
Car to meet the Logan guy and bet and drink
And me here like some ****** waiting and
My feet aching and the piles giving me hell.
She stops as her husband’s car returns and
He pulls up and gets out real slow and puts
The bags in the back and says nothing, passing
Her by and getting back in his seat and she
Climbing in her side of the car says, Hi Honey,
Did you have a nice drink and bet with Logan?
Yeah, he says, but the horse fell and the beer
Was warm and Logan didn’t show and so I
Drank the warm beer and bet the one horse
And then came here. You? Had a good
Shopping trip? Sure, she says, her voice
Now mellow, a smile on her lips, just got
What we needed and they did my hair.
You watch as off they drive, and as they
Go off the woman gives you the middle
Digit up you sign and a dark black glare.
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