You blew into town,
slicked back hair, muscle shirt.
Swaggered in with a cocksure grin,
ordered whiskey shots.
Tom Jones dropped in the jukebox,
pulsed heart throb beats.
Women groveled, blushed and fawned
Me? I dropped the cue,
clicked my heels and sashayed out.
A quadrille (44 words) written for dVerse Poet’s Pub. Grace is tending bar and asks us to think about the word twister. Also applying for day 18 in NaPoWriMo. Photos are two free images fused together.