STEVEN, FREDDY, VIRGINIA & ME

 

Joseph Shields

 

 

Troubled Steven stumbled down Manitoba Street

heading toward the Root River Parkway

with a half full bottle of Beam hanging listlessly

from one hand and the burning embers

of his Virginia Slim cigarette dangling

off his pouty French-like lips.

Steven was always like that-

heavily intoxicated, lookin' cool, and smoking

those goddamn pencil-dick slims.

Steven was the only boy in school

puffing on ladies cigarettes and the shit he took for it

could have buried the state of Wisconsin ten feet deep.

Everyone liked Steven and really didn't care what he smoked

but on account of Freddy Kuhl's vicious attacks

we all wished he'd switch brands.

Hell, even Marlboro Lights would be OK.

Sure, they ain't no ass kickin' balls to the wall filterless

but at least the change

might keep Freddy's Kuhl's fist out of his face.