he's got one.
the mescaline freak
with the twelve broken teeth
shouldn't smile as he pulls on his wad
of fives. or, maybe he's packed it--
fives on the outside, tens in the middle, fifty
to the squeals of the bar ho who
to pimp him, hand him
a night of primped pleasin'.
and all's I can think
of as she slaps
that snapper is:
It looks like she'll need bigger garters.