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"THE PLAN WENT AWRY"


I see hundreds of these females 
inside that courthouse. they all 
stand there: the rich, the poor, 
the borrowers and the undercover 
street whores. these are the ones 
who lick the popsicle stick and open 
their flytraps at night and pull out 
freshly baked cookies from the oven 
in the afternoon. they all have plans, 
some diabolical scheme to rip a man's 
life apart. somewhere though, they 
lose their objective. all but the visitors 
are dressed well enough to clown the 
eyes of Goliath and just mundane 
enough to give their fraudulent 
stories a voice. the heels are worn, 
the skirts are tight enough to hug 
the shape of their popsicle taking donkey 
and the floss dead center is obvious. 
(I look to give that choice of theirs fulfillment), 
the cones are out, squeezed together 
to veer the eyes of decision, the makeup 
and hair stands a status their husbands 
have never seen for their late night tickle. 
if you ever find yourself inside these 
courthouses, listen carefully. the 
sounds of those heels echoing as they 
walk, call attention to those who 
know these females. they're in there 
to take children away, to take money 
away and put on a show so good, an 
Oscar will be delivered to their front 
door. I lost faith in the female when 
I met my mother. I lost hope for 
females twenty years ago. I see 
these females are the offspring of the 
whores that ran in round one. it isn't 
the mighty dollar that is the root of 
all evil, it is the mighty filthy flytrap. 
they ruined my plans for global 
coitus annihilation.


By: Chicano Eddie
3102017

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