Stud

by Glen Martin Fitch

In denim blues, his t-shirt shines.
No tux could strut so fine.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.
With dirty hands as if he worked,
Few care he cuts in line.
Oh he's bad...
He smells of brime-stone, sweat and sex.
With stubble on his chin.
What hides his cloven hooves and tail?
Are horns beneath his skin?
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.

He eyes the exit. Eyes my soul.
Which is the better bet?
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.
He'll pick a fight. He'll kick a dog
And never feel regret.
Oh he's bad...
He'll charm a waitress, skip her tip
And never look the fool.
He won't say sorry, please or thanks,
And come off looking cool.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.

He'll peel his tread, ignore all signs,
But damn, I feel the thrill.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.
He'll take my seat. He'll steal my cap.
I'm pissed, but linger still.
Oh he's bad...
He pees off porches, spits on food.
Loves breaking mirrors, clocks.
His cards aren't good. He fibs for fun.
He's always testing locks.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.

spoken:

And he said to me:
I want you to be my friend..
I don't know why yet,
But some day I'll need you and then…
you'll owe-- Sucker."
then gave me his killer smile.

What am I missing? What's it like,
Those things I don't allow?
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.
He rubs his crotch. He curls his lip.
He wants, and wants it now.
Oh he's bad...
But I feel guilty lacking guilt.
I know what's right and yet
Am I the gutless fool 'cause I
Regret I can't regret.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.

He fearless, bold. He takes the lead,
Yet never takes the blame.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.
I envy how he takes his fill,
And takes off without shame.
Oh he's bad...
And when he falls, he lands on top.
Then off. He can't be found.
His luck will leave. But he'll be dead
Before he caught and bound.
He's bad, but bad never looked so good.

From: 
8/11




Glen Martin Fitch's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."


Last updated August 23, 2011