Olí Smoky Broken Hearted Psychopathic Blues

we all know that courtinís a pleasure and partinís a grief
and a false hearted lover is worse than a thief
and thatís especially true when your lyiní
cheatiní exgirlís new husband builds a fancy little cottage
in a clearing at the edge of his parentsí sprawling property
nestled amid plush oak and maple and massive sycamores
and featuring a little pond with ducks and a sturdy old row boat
pulled up on the grassy shore

you know for a fact theyíve made love in that boat
which seems like it would be uncomfortable
but then those werenít the sounds of discomfort you heard
coming from the middle of that pond
no sir
and all this when their secluded honeymoon palace
is not too far from your own sandy little quarter acre
of stunted pine and scrub oak

and if you leave your trailer
and walk barely two and a half miles
move delicately through that thicket of thorned black berries
repel down what they call Rattle Snake Hill
and wade across Millerís Creek
you can slip between the strands of that damned barbed wire fence,
peek through the brush
and see them blatantly flaunting their conjugal bliss
as though you never even existed
Written by javalini
Author's Note
When your prompt is a song you sang in third grade.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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