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June 2008 / Volume Eight / Issue Two | |||||||||||
Michael D. Grover | |||||||||||
I Always Was A Sucker For A Tragedy She called me from West Philly To say she had come home from the bar She was puking in the toilet And she fell down on the bathroom floor She could not get up I thought about asking her How she had the phone But I guessed it might have been on her So I rushed out to save my damsel in distress I took a cab from Center City I buzzed her apartment With her all alone laying on the bathroom floor Somebody buzzed me in At that point I knew I was a sucker I walked up the stairs To find her perfectly positioned Laying on the bathroom floor I asked her who buzzed me in She talked like a drunk idiot "What are you talking about?" I didn't even ask I picked her up And took her in her room Put her in her bed She gave a seductive sigh At that point I walked out into The cold ghetto night Walked back to Center City And to my apartment Where she had left a message Saying "Fuck you!" Or something. What can I say I always was a sucker for a tragedy |
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RETURN TO JUNE 2008 |