Trouble

Photo by RP Thomas

Trouble in Talent

In April I shall shave

my  beard, Tex said, 

and in May I shall 

move into town.

Tex looked outside

at the black clouds

circling above Talent

like a murder of crows.

First, I am too old

to be your cuckold;

and you, Lizzie

DeLay, are too cold.

Lizzie sat in her chair

with her hair down,

her bold countenance

drawn low that day.

The wag Ted later said,

through the gloom of Tex’s

Tavern, love is doomed;

hate always more truthful.

If you want proof, look 

around; Lizzie’s feet are well

off the ground, and Big Mike

has swallowed a spoonful.

TS