Monday, October 3, 2011

In the black of the alley

When she hit you back
you didn’t see it coming. Your swagger

got knocked sideways, shaken down
to a stumble
that broke your sweet high.

It’s a long way down when you have
spittle running down your cheek
and your girl’s

just walked off
with the last of the weed and a curse
flung sharp over her shoulder.

Rachel Westfall
October 3, 2011

1 comment:

Rob-bear said...

Treacherous woman. Treacherous.
In the black alley, I was reminded of
"the dark of the moon on the sixth of June in a Kenworth pullin' logs." Which might be suitable for your area.