Daniel S. Irwin


Gettin’ liquored up can make ya do crazy things.

Like back in my drinkin’ days carousin’ about.

I ‘member that wild time down in south Texas.

Drinkin’ for days…tequila, rum, whiskey, whatever.

There was a for real hoedown of the lowdown.

My new drinkin’ buddy says to me, “Ese,

That guy over there been fuckin’ your wife.”

Ain’t nothin’ like the menace of a drunkin’ cowboy.

The music stopped, the bar cleared, the only dancin’

Was me poundin’ on that poor son’bitch’s face.

Threw the asshole across a table and bit off an ear.

My amigo passed me a knife, a real pig sticker.

“Time to take you wife a special present, no?”

I cut my victim’s belt ready to jerk his pants down.

I held the blade poised for the slicing off of

The trophy of retribution, vengeance be mine. 

Then, I suddenly remembered, I’m not married.


Sister Sally

Sally had a

Fantastic ass.

She was more a

Mobil home ho

Than trailer trash.

She took no shit

From nobody

And moved with

A marked sense of

Imminent destruction.

Always predator

Never prey.

She could cold-cock

A man with a

Well swung bottle

With her eyes closed.

Those who knew her

Said she had

Really changed

In attitude, outlook,

And demeanor since

She left the convent.

Still, her man, Jeffrey

Spoke well of her

When she had him

In a headlock. 

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