Lolita

by Zach King-Smith

 

I stayed with a
woman who was
tough as a bed
of nails drunk.

When she’d
get drunk she’d
swing at me.

Take a swig
from the bottle
then swing.

I didn’t sleep
much at all
those few weeks.

One night
she swung at
me with everything
she had and hit me.

I told her to
get out the next
morning.

Some women are
lovely vicious things
and some men
take it like me.

I’ll never understand
those sleepless weeks.

I was a coward.