THE BARMAID’S SISTER.

She had birds nest hair
The colour of jaundice,
And an enormous nose
That bridged beyond this.

A mile wide smile
With a kilometre’s charm,
And seventeen suitors
Tattooed on her arm.

A front door that was always
Open too wide,
With more odd sock draws
Than feet inside.

Six kids somewhere,
Either inside or out,
Another in a home
For the benefit of doubt.

A dog with disease
Of unknown origin,
A cat like creature
That was always foraging.

With power in the house
Turned on 24/5,
But not beyond Friday
As she was barely alive,

Having consumed the contents
Of pub and purse,
And the confused comments
Of the last man there,

Whom she couldn’t convince
Of her salacity,
Seems the only thing pulling
Was poor old gravity.

And as her skin was beginning
To fold like paper
She had to persuade
Adolescents to rape her,

So they ran her out of Dodge
With her crook and sheep
As I closed the curtains
And went back to sleep.