BLUE MOON MOTEL | By: Willie Buchanan | | Category: Poem - Dark Bookmark and Share



any people have spent time here,all kinds.
The neon lights flash through the blinds.
A lip stick stained cigarette burns in the ashtray
of a dark room.The smell of cheap perfume
as a lady of the night takes a bird bath.
Long time on the road,it felt good to get layed.
       She was good at her chosen trade.
  I sat on the edge o
f the bed drinking a glass of
old crow,as Billie Holiday sang Lover Man on the
radio.I picked up a pack from the night stand
and lit a lucky strike. The floozy needs to take
a hike.I’m a Torpedo for the Mob,In town to bump
off a fat slob.I don’t ask why.I just know he has to die.
  When the dough is right I do the job day or night.
  Twenty minutes go by.I open the bathroom door. 
To my surprise ,a dead naked floozy sits on the toilet.
A heroin needle sticking out of her arm.Damn it !
Life for her is no more. I don’t wanna believe my own     eyes.
  I got her dressed and dumped her in an alley 2
blocks away.I had to get out of town before the
                             light of day.

  I then drove across town,knocked on the door,
and used my 38 to shoot the fat slob in the face.
Getting out of town was now a race.

 I am not to be found,
miles down For highway 666 I was bound.
Yeah,I shot the man,damn right !
  I’ve got to get out of  town, to night.
From the Bulls I  gotta stay out of sight.  
You take the job you can’t back out from
                        the Mob.
  I’m gonna take it on the lam and lay some
                      miles down ! 

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