Vicious eyes,
ferocious smile, and an
ass that begged to be
rubbed all night, like
Buddha promises good luck.
But, what that
ass brought was
jail, soup lines, and
homeless shelters.
The heart pounds the
head, then the feet pound
the street;
walking mile after mile,
aimless roaming,
doe-eyed thinking
What went wrong?
Where the hell did
I go wrong?
Then it dawns on
me like the dew
soaked morning.
It was the ass.
Always that
sorceriffic ass.