saw you at the library….
looking at Tom Clancy books…
John Grisham…
browsing in shit….

stuck-out like lavender…
emerald eyes…
black ink hair….straightened i believe…
a pink sweater….

was looking at pics of John and Tom….
what dashing literary heroes…
John…the warm southern air…
Tom…that tough fighting fuck…

caught you red-handed…
cheating on me…
thought you were better than that….
what have they got…

i’m onto you…
don’t buy another book….
take my pictures down…
these bedtime stories are over…

see ya’ ’round kid…
and when John drops you like a hot southern yam….
Tom tells you he needs more fight….something…kinky…
don’t come to my little shop of whores…