Saturday, 18 August 2012

“Lady, You Shot Me!” by Tim Wells

Sam Cooke’s birthday
and everyone is
bringing it on home:
the place swinging
and folks singing.

Skirts haven’t been so short
and sayin’ so much
since Ike Turner
first kitted out
the Ikettes in St Louis.

At a wink,
a gal in a tasselled dress
camel walks
to a table,
laden with cake.

Ol’ Sam snatches up
a handful, rubs it
between her charms,
pushes his grinning face
right on in there:

the icing on the cake,’
Just then the boys
set the champagne
bottles poppin’,

corks ricocheting
off the walls.
Sam blanches,
his attention
on a smear

of heavy strawberry jam
between the girl’s
Suddenly he feels
cold and alone.

This poem is from Tim Wells' collection 'Rougher Yet' published by the glorious and serendipitously cake-related Donut Press.

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