Skin, gin and sin city….
Pretty lady sat near me at the tavern and I said hello. She smiled and she came nearer. She caressed my military hair-cut and she asked. Soldier, coming home or going to war? I told her, the war is done for awhile. She spoke like a hooker in a high class Vegas club. She was. Her voice sweet and spicy. She whispered with a twisted smile, “Skin, gin and sin city. Ambrosia for us who understand, the body demand payment, the gin taste better with ice and lemon juice. Sin city was built from the lowest form of life. Utopia for us who love to taste the dirt of living. You damn soldiers and I. Just selling and buying shit from liars and the naysayers.”
I told her, I loved your black dress, I loved your long legs, as long as highway 80 and you are…
View original post 432 more words
The Reluctant Poet 