The Best Days

Had a gal named Sadie; she be one bow-legged lady
Big ol’ gal named Sadie; thick-thigh, bow-legged lady
Could drink many a grown man under the table
But the only way to look at her was drunk
If you was able

Had a face so fulla craters, she look like a ‘tater
Whole face just fulla craters, she look like a ‘tater
But in the middle of the blackest night
With them bow-legs wrapped around
She be one pretty sight

Woke me up early one morn, just this side of dawn
Oh woke me one morn, just this side of dawn
And threw some tiny pair of panties at me
Saying I hope she worth the time
So who they be?

And them be the best days, yeah the best days of my life
Oh they be the best days, yeah the best days of my life

Well I was so outta luck, so I ran, got in my truck
Oh I was SO outta luck, I just ran, got in my truck
But she stood in the doorway holdin’ the key
Yelling boy you ain’t takin’ a thing, nary a thing
That belongs ta me

She say boy I told ya twice, in fact done told you thrice
Yeah she had told me twice, in fact done told me thrice
If I was ever stupid enough to get caught
I’m a lose her and everything
She ever bought

And I knew it weren’t just talk, so I started to walk
‘Cause her shotgun know how to talk, so I started to walk
But she said boy them clothes you gots belong to me
And all she let me keep were my guitar
And my skivvies

And them be the best days, yeah the best days of my life
Oh they be the best days, yeah the best days of my life

I’s followed by Lucky, our one-eyed pet that’s mangy
Yeah good ole one-eyed Lucky, three-legged and mangy
But Sadie just whistled twice and that ol’ dog
Sat down in the middle of the road
Still like a log

Not knowing what to do, I walked down to Sue’
What else a nekkid man goin’ do, I walk on to Sue
But ‘fore I can even say what’s up Luvva
I greeted by her new man and his gun
Name of Bubba (Dang!)

So now I ain’t gots no wife, just my guitar and barely my life
No I ain’t gots no wife, no truck, no dog – just guitar and my life
And I start ta thinking halleluiah I’se now free of pain
I looked up inta the summer sky
It had started to rain

And them be the best days, yeah the best days of my life
Oh they be the best days, yeah the best days of my life


One Stop Poetry Form Monday — The Blues

untitled… (Subway)

As if rush hours on the train are not bad enough, I left my iPod on my desk and of course, since I’m running late, I not only didn’t get to pick up my paper, but I am now sardined against the doors. Because of the crush of bodies any chance of feeling the air conditioning is close to nil at this point and I just pray my suit is not an offensive half soggy mess when I finally disembark. To the side of me is an older woman with enough Aquanet in her hair, that if they actually wanted to hive there, I seriously doubted bees could have penetrated the hirsute turban. And oh fracking hell already!!!! Did this guy next to me pour every ounce of cologne in existence in a tub and immerse his entire body in it? Gee-shush!! Pinching the bridge of my nose while trying hard to keep my eyes from watering from both toxic scents, I stare down into the long expansive blackness of the tunnel before the next stop.  The immense dark was very fitting to my mood indeed.

Looking for any distraction to try to pull my mind out of its funk, I notice this gorgeous woman in shades in the glass’ reflection. I could just barely make out the shape of her eyes behind the dark lenses, but couldn’t really see them. She made up for it by having beautiful lush lips, emphasized the more with whatever gloss she was wearing. They looked as though she drank water not even seconds ago and I all but expected an errant liquid drop to fall. I couldn’t tell if my sudden thirst was for this unseen water implied or for the lips themselves providing that implication. She’s seemingly staring straight ahead, but I can’t tell if she’s really staring ahead or doing the non-dance we commuters without personal diversions do of looking at anything, but seeing nothing. It’s a lovely few minutes of I’m looking at you, but I’m not looking at you to while away the time.

As the train is pulling into the station she slowly lifts her shades and stares up quizzically. It was her, at first what the…? rapidly increasing to OH MY GOD, expression that finally made me stop looking at her reflection in the glass and actually through the glass itself. Her confusion then shock is rapidly matched by passengers waiting on the platform as the train starts to slow.  Mesmerized by their expressions, my mind does not fully register the crimson streaks snaking their way down the panes.  As the train jerks to its stop, the bloody body that suddenly slides from the curved roof of the train, to be caught on God only knows what and now dangle hideously in front of me just as the doors open, setting off screams inside and out of the train got my attention fully. The front of the skull was slowly turning towards me and with a slow sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, that had nothing to door with the bloody horror dangling before me, I realized I recognized what was left of the face attached to it.


This is an entry for a  challenge to write a story opener for a murder on a train. So? What do you think?