The Pretty Hat Seller, Old


“He showed me nothing but contempt
and took me for all he could get.”

  – Fracois Villon

I was sitting there as usual
just bidding my time, when
the old hat seller Marge came
in plopped down, took off
her filthy jerkin – her toothless
grimed hubby ragged her. She
didn’t have many teeth
either, just that buck
tooth, white and ugly, snagged
against her torn lip and middling
dimple; she’d smile like that
old boxer I used to have, as
if she’d bite my nose off as if
he hadn’t already. She was
always a little tipsy even
before a drink, but now it
was some whimper from
the street wars that kept
her sniffling on, hard against
the day. A death we both agreed
to share if only for a drink o’ whiskey and a dare.

Steven Craig Hickman ©2014 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

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