Small Town Lothario by HilLesha O’Nan

clear drinking glass with water
photo by Johnny Vigersten (unsplash)

Small Town Lothario

He was a silvery eyed devil
in the guise of a postal worker
that begrudgingly delivered your mail
like he was Henry Charles Bukowski. In
his mind, he was a laureate and he had
paid his dues long enough.

He thought of himself as a small town 
lothario,
that was making women feverishly
swoon when he wasn't murdering them 
in his poems
that he claimed that was better 
than anything T.S. Eliot could have ever 
written.

He once wrote about the women of the 
night, calling them brazen whores
that danced with strange men before
disappearing before dawn.  Was it true
crime? Either way, the old painter was
his ever faithful lap dog, calling him the
next Jack Kerouac. 

Wolfpack Contributor EIC Bios:  David L O’Nan & HilLesha O’Nan

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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