Noon-Light Cowboy
by Kevin Ridgeway

I was walking down the highway from Worcester
to neighboring Shrewsbury, Massachusetts in
search of a job due to pressures from my wife
to stop drinking and listening to Frank Zappa
in my pajamas all day long.

a high spirited Brazilian gentlemen in a baby blue
convertible pulled over and offered me a ride into
town that led to him groping my inner thigh almost
up to my scrotum.

I jumped out of the car at the first stop light we hit,
dashing into a nearby Cumberland Farms, where
I hid behind magazines until the manager forced
me to buy something.

I rushed to my apartment with a bag filled with
convenience store ramen noodles and a 40 oz.
bottle of Steele Reserve malt liquor that shattered
against the salted glaciers of sidewalk I nearly
broke my skull on in a frenzied sprint across it to
evade his advancing vehicle, his horn blaring as
he yelled "come back to me my darling" in his
best Portuguese Pepe Lepew.

as I told my wife this harrowing tale of innocence
lost, her cherry tonsil shook its head at me with
disdain as she laughed all the way until our divorce
was final.

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