Joesph L. Clark then decided to stand up, because
The gravel was hurting his knee.
"Well, why not?" He pondered,
Aloud. That was a mistake.
"Because Joe,
You can't make a living off of
Poetry and whiskey."
Her voice was sharp
Like knives, as strong as
A meat pounder.
Joe short of liked that,
Though.
"And besides, there are other men
Here in this town that can hold my
Hand tighter than you ever will."
To that, Mr.Clark's jaw tightened,
His hands around themselves did so as well,
And with a tilt of his head he muttered
These words out of his bearded face:
"I'm no option baby,
I'm all or nothing."
And walked away knowing that
At least he had the dignitiy to be
A man at times.

Ms. Eleanor P. Carney's
T-strap heels struggled against
The grain of the dirt road, as she ran after him.
Tight hand holding made her palms sweaty, anyways.