deepundergroundpoetry.com

Winnin Mooney

Winnin Mooney
Five years ago on a day in may  
Two young men went out to play  
Some billiards for 'twas their way  
 
In that boozey billiard hall  
Mooney couldn't sink a ball  
And watching waiting was a killer doll  
 
As the game had reached its end  
She stated dude you're ok I won't pretend  
But ill kick your ass and win your friend  
 
Zilla racked the balls up nice  
Cue. Ball. Smack. Slice  
But didn't run and paid the price  
 
11 13 15 9 'twas then  
14 12 and the 10  
Wow what a woman  
 
Leaving 8 in perfect spot  
Game over last shot  
Punker gangsta style hot  
 
Those the facts that came to pass  
How Zilla won the mooney ass  
In may eleven whilst smoking grass  
 
Mooney had recently lost his wife  
Was simply struggling with living life  
Dealing with myriad forms of strife  
 
From not having outlets to put on sexy outfits  
To where to wear his high heeled kicks  
And who how and where to get his kinky fix  
 
Zilly said silly you gotta meet Meg and Tilly  
We will party at their place by the river chilly
And you can wear something frilly  
 
Mooney laughed that night at the story of Meg's  
Bout clucking around and catching some eggs  
Enjoying the company of round holes and square pegs  
 
Then for a time there was a stall  
Until one morning in a telephone call  
Bad news it came through from Montréal  
 
Flush with nuff funds he hopped on a flight  
Was in the big city that very same night  
To brighten her darkness to be a beacon of light  
 
The next two weeks were quite the blur  
Cokin boozin just livin fer  
She fer he and he fer her  
 
A Muslim singer just pissed on scotch  
A speed freak chick in another notch  
Better than TV and bearing a watch  
 
Alas oh woe is me it had come time to flee  
To escape the fantasy embrace again reality  
Get the fuck out of that big city  
 
Mooney returned to his quiet old space  
Back to being alone with none to embrace  
Yet a pleasant memory of that dynamic place  
 
Zilla lived on though her health took a hit  
To strong of a girl to give into the shit  
She said fuck it and fought it she just would not quit  
 
Now in the present to make life more pleasant  
Zilla gave Mooney a pleasing present  
A medicine bag blessed by a poor peasant  
 
The tale herein I swear is true  
Though it may sound far fetched to you  
How losing a game could grant life anew  
Written by BlackHyde17
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0 reading list entries 0
comments 0 reads 448
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 9:07am by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Today 8:54am by deadwolf
POETRY
Today 4:45am by ajay
POETRY
Today 4:35am by ajay
COMPETITIONS
Today 1:42am by admin
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 00:55am by SweetKittyCat5