My Politician
Blacken soot from his half smokin’ cigarette
Tire marks screech from his corvette
Claims he found cleaning out a union electric socket
Keeps a ripped safety net crammed into a silver locket
Along with a flask of whisky in his back pocket.
Greasy dyed jet black hair
What’s left of it – no one cares
Stray cats follow him around everywhere
He’ll crash a party on a dare
And then disappear & reappear out of no where
He’s a collector of ancient myths
He’ll bet ya from his innumerable tips
He’s a star maker
A loose taker
A fat walker
Smooth talker
He’s my voice
What other choice
Is this the only man?
My politician
DWB © MMXII
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