Red Jacket

The red coat or Jacket
Was worn by a blond woman
She was twenty
And gruesome.

I could picture her lying nude
On a bed of Pointsettias
Spreading to get anyone
To drink their juice.

She was an unregistered lethal weapon
Of X culture
Armed with bayonets for fingernails
And poison lipstick.

I met her with a younger one
Who was far from thin
And there had been
Mary Jane in the ashtray.

There wasn’t any reason to talk
After I’d heard the story about the cat-lady
That crazy old grandmother
And her boyfriend The Hipster.

Now she’s a Black Widow
Everyone knows it
And maybe she’ll quit the free agency
And start understanding the messages
Start getting with the program.

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