Pink I

with pinking shears

I cut my slip,

quit my job

hit the bricks,
headed to a pub, and then–

drank till I saw elephants

–rosy red

like my eyes–

crossed & tossed

I didn’t drive,

leaving my pink Cadillac,

at Bruce’s bar

(parked out back)

walking home

I found fresh air

sobered me

–pinkie swear

next day woke up in the pink

house & mood

in spite of drink,

moral is

when getting pickled:

laugh it off


your tickle.


prompt: pink

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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