Vodka Stinger

Hey man, you got a light?

No. I'm not with him.

He's just some guy who

ran in front of my car

bent my bumper with his shin

smashed my headlight with his knees

flipped up and

thudded on my hood

cart wheeled into space

blew two red tennis shoes right off his feet

splattered red rain drops on my windshield

cracked his head on concrete

snapped a few ribs

swept up bits and pieces of glass and plastic with his trench coat and

skidded to a halt a few inches in front of the Krispy Kreme Donuts.

Asshole. That is no way to meet women in LA.

Hey man, pour me another vodka, will ya?

Straight. Up. On the rocks. I don't care.

Deranged stalkers. They're the ones I get.

Jambalaya splitting hairs

Crack smoking donkey asses

Nasty head banging mother fuckers

Skanky long hair fop watches

Coat rack hanging penile lampposts

Swizzle stick poker playing knob twisters.

Honk this train to my destiny Jack

‘cause Julie Andrews ain't waiting for no suntan dabble whacking creep job.

I just want to hear the music for godssake.

Hey man, see that guy over there?

He thinks he can

get to that place corked up inside me

slush the deluxe Igloo ice palace

shave a few slivers off the block

chip away at my frozen core

ice pick me

carve me up

chain saw me

chisel away ‘til the swan emerges of some

perfect image he has in his head. Then

break off a stalactite or two as a souvenir.

I don't think so.

He hasn't felt my avalanche.

I will smother him

freeze his nose hairs

crystallize his lungs and

stop his heart if he has one.

42 years of ice

red hot ice

baby

created by the likes of him, and I'm not

melting down the drain for just anybody, even if he's some

fiddle plucking two-headed strap on Jimmy packing the Titanic.

No man. I don't want another one. I'll just take the check.