Pleaser

Our brave sailor drank to much beer yesterday with his friends. His pockets are empty. His eyes are blurry and his head is heavy like a stone - and now his third wife comes and demands money. Money for food. I don't have it. Money for dog food. I don't have it. She is buzzing into his ears. Then she plays nice. At least, money for gas, honey. There goes our brave sailor in the dark to suck gas from other cars to please his third wife. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/5/2010