it tatters on  the edge
like a flag
but her shirt
is all black
cept the letters
which shout at you in your face real real loud
'you cant have me
motherf&@ker'
with a happy face knife in the eye

she looks at the pavement
and mumbles somthing
off tone
but my head is ringing and i cant
place her words on the paper of my head
its too soaked with rain
all thoughts a runny
and slide right on out

she grabs my collar and pulls me along
down the isle to the display case
where she points out a bracelet
she wants real real bad is
'aint that *******'
little skulls and guns in pink
like charms
just for a laugh i buy it for her
she gets a complex look on her face
and punches my arm several times
'cant pay you back for that f&#kface till i get paid'
nothing to pay back kiddo
just a chicken wing

thought id share that
for whatever it means to a babysitter
to be around a poet
in the strange world
in a florida state of mind