NaPoWriMo #4

I know, I know, I'm falling behind.

I've been revising my little buggers... which isn't the idea of feverishly writing but whatever.

Ok, so here's another shitty first draft of a poem, a "musing" let's call it about a South Texas Europa.

 

I can't tell you what made me do it,

the gritty bar, a night like any other

where I sat underneath the neon lights,

listened to that same old song of men

left by women who are to blame

for all of life's dilemmas. I swill

cheap beer, it's bitter on my lips,

it always tastes the same. I breathe

the stale air, smoke and sour breath,

listen to more bad pick up lines:

My girl, your eyes are perdier than...

No more. I slam down my glass,

half empty now, and before the rough

man can offer to buy me a drink, ask

me to dance in a two step that leads

me nowhere but his dirty apartment. I'm gone,

left my bar stool, my heels clicking against

the wooden floor. I don't know what made

me do it that night, that night I climbed atop

the bull and grabbed the reins in one hand,

held hat in the other and closed my eyes –

The cacophony of drunks turned to

a symphony of waves, the steel guitar

to sea gulls carrying a tune, and the bull

bucking between my legs, cold underneath

my ass was white and warm, gentle flesh,

and galloped through the breezy night.

I closed my eyes and rode away, away

to a place where I was a woman who

mighty enough to name a continent after,

the one who even gods could not resist.