The ballad of the angry woman. And a beautiful Mean Mary song.

(April is poetry month. New poetry number twelve.)

The ballad of the angry woman.

She was an unbounded lady sitting alone at Happy Hour in the Monterey Irish Pub. Long Island Ice Teas, three dollars and whiskey shot two dollars till 9pm. She had a cold beer and two shots of Gentleman Jack whiskey in the front of her. I knew her. She loved to surf the big storms, and she didn’t want another greedy man.

Once on a blue moon evening, we wandered deep into the sea. Dear Sara taught me how to keep still in the arms of the large waves. Once we kissed the moon and the stars. She liked me. I wanted nothing no-more except the sea and the whiskey.

I sat next to her, and I ordered a Long Island Iced Tea and two shots of the Gentleman Jack whiskey. And I wrote into my journal.

” You found me and I found you on a blue moon night, we were drunk and so foolish.

We were sea-dancers seeking the dangerous waves of the Pacific.

I told her, dear Sara. Love shouldn’t be a prison; love should be majestic nights and peaceful days.

Love should not be madness. My first love is the sea, she never broke my heart.

And she is always waiting for me and she taught me. Life is dancing on a dangerous edge.

I adore the raven on your back and the spider web on her legs and arms.

You taught me. Kisses can be fatal and love is fickle. Better to have friends and more whiskey.

You are my sea; you are my soul mates seeking the wild dance in the center of the Winter storms of the Pacific.”

She took my journal and she read my words. She took her whiskey and she told me. Johnnie, Johnnie. Less talk and more drinking. I brought the suits and the boards. We touch the whiskey shot glasses and we drank them both.

I ordered four more whiskeys and I told her. Big storm tonight. We will need the whiskey to keep us warm. She smiled and she told me. Hell does not want us; heaven is too nice. Isn’t a good day to die. Thank you Johnnie for accepting my angry face and my quiet voice. I know time heal all wounds and I need the sea, I need the Winter storms, and I am thankful for your friendship. Ugly and pissed off people need the sameness. I told her. Pretty Sara, life can be shit and we need easy days, kind friends and a lot of Gentleman Jack whiskey. Sometimes we need to hold someone hands and seek peace in the arms of the sea. Let’s drink two more whiskeys and we will find the bay. Put on the body suits and dance with the Pacific tonight. Dear Sara, all of us will find our proper ending. Today we will dance with the sea and find some laughter.

Coyote