Roberta Burns
By john clare
It was no small deed for her to rip the
Carpet right from beneath his feet
Spread denim over him rolled tight
Exposing the soft underbelly asleep
For she's heard all the pick up lines
Endured the mis-thrusts upon
Orange shag plush
Short-lived ecstasy in Cohen rhyme
As she lay and made cigarette ring puffs
And he wonders why she offered to cut
Taking such vengeance on the carpet
A slice for every mis-placed trust
Makeup smeared tears she cannot forget
Feed her frappe lines if you dare
Just be not surprised when she tears
That new laid linoleum as you squirm
Cringing at the pain inflicted from one
Roberta Carpet Burns.
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