My truck broke down in Nashville, and my coins
Would not have bought a slice of cherry pie;
I hitched a pickup ride to cool Des Moines
And shaved some vagrants in a poker dive.
Claire loved me well, or so she said, until
She left me for an Elvis lookalike;
He had the sneer, the sequins, boots and pills,
And he could croon a love song to a mike.
When I recall her round red Irish face,
I want to sock his nose and watch him bleed:
He never understood his proper place
And never did respect a man in need.
Cards I control: I deal them low or high:
I wish I had not let that love slip by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very mundane - better luck next time