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pearl de vere would be proud
girls danced to the symphony of men and their spittoons,
the pianist overpowered, one sultry night in June.
each corner of saloon grew animate with radiance in all hues,
resplendence hardly discerned after an ample round of booze.
wise women made well to refuse and firmly decline
all offers of laudanum, bourbon, and even red wine.
unsavory cowboys would entwine and interlace
with soiled doves, sporting their forcibly slender waists.
each day further debased and their insignificance verified,
the doves would be manhandled callously by ‘boys advancing in pride.
but the girls still danced to the symphony of men and their spittoons,
the pianist overpowered, one sultry night in June..
Done with poetry
But for the record,
you were my favorite.