He took his girfriend’s kid down to the ice cream store
Bought her a pretty standard flavored dairy-product heavily sweetened bore
As she stared dolefully at the floor
Thinking as the pink goo dripped to her shoe:
When will I get to go home and take this dress off?
It’s stained with all the memories of my mom’s first bruiseby the first Tom Cruise
Who had swept her off her feet and pinned mine to the dirty floor
As he ventured to explore the caverns my father had tore through her tiny self image frame
that shattered when he had splattered upon it
red paint and pretty false diamonds that sparkled make-believe futures of what they’d be.
Twenty years later that drug-store dress is all torn
and she’s sitting in the pisser of the local tavern on the tiled floor
clawing at ghosts of voices that keep screaming she’s a fucking whore.