It cracks me up
when I doth drive
on past the police station.
And by the way,
I mean no harm
of sex discrimination!
But half the city’s
pretty girls
are there, just sitting stale.
For pretty girls
seem to fancy bad boys,
and bad boys fancy jail!
Always!
Jas…
(Written whilst the author was driving through downtown on the way home from work, who then, being of sound mind and physique, took his usual convenient shortcut to the freeway past the police station where he continues to this day to bear witness to ten, sometimes twenty different women who stir his blood, sitting on the railing and benches, bored, and most likely awaiting their bad boy-boyfriend’s or bad boy-husbands’ release from the clinker… and he wonders why they aren’t modeling for some glossy magazine and making thirty times the money they probably were making as it was instead of sitting there, bored, waiting to take their bad boy-men home, the same men who probably abuse them physically because they’re bad boys. Written also from the context that the author is and always has been a nerd of sorts who has always been a jealous second to the bad boys when growing up in school and looking for girls to date, yet finding none, but who also knows that Karma is doing its job.)
3 comments:
Nice poem. You really captured a moment here. I know a poem is successful (at least for me) when I feel like I've just spent that moment with the writer.
As for the bad boy thing: Alas, it's true. Many women prefer bad boys. For me, that translated into someone who was "different" or "misunderstood" (making sense to you, BO?). Either that or I prefer a man with a past. If that misunderstood man has a past and dimples, then you'd probably see me sitting outside the police station, waiting to post bail too.
Fortunately many of us grow out of the bad boy syndrome and discover the law-abiding, job-holding, somewhat predictable men to be much more preferable than the James Dean type characters.
Thanks Flannery! That was very nice of you to say (the first part).
I laughed at the second part there, but it's so true! It's that mystery or something, I talked with my wife about it. You girls just like the mysterious past, the thought that you can "tame" him or something.
Then you become grown-up, hot women and fall for us redneck nerds. I can live with that.
:D
Orange - I saw that poster and laughed for a full five minutes because IT'S SO FRICKIN' TRUE!!!
I apologize to all the women who read this comment. I didn't mean you specifically...
'hem!
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