Sawyer the Lawyer

In a dark tavern bar sat Sawyer the lawyer

Sweaty and fevered with fear.

He saw her again; he could not avoid her

That woman who bought him that beer.

 

Gorgeous, she was, but he couldn’t enjoy her

For what she said made him feel faint.

She smiled and winked; she could not be coyer

But innocent?...that sir, she ain’t.

 

“Let me guess about you”, she whispered to Sawyer

In his ear with the beer losing head

“I’ll look at your hand and I’ll know your employer…

…your passions, your secrets and dreads”

 

And she did, to his shock, so “please stop” he implored her

It scared him that she read his mind

Down to the obsession with Jessica Moir

The blonde in the cubicle behind

 

So he bolted and ran, this Sawyer the lawyer

Hiding in alleys, phone booths

Trying to see his thoughts seconds before her

Running from nothing but truth

 

It’s futile, she laughs, and he sees her big goiter

You cannot escape what you are

Not even with a guided missile destroyer

And a friendly and well-stocked bar

 

The End

71 comments about this poem Feed