Pleatheretta Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Pleatheretta,
Loves but spills her scotch.
With her patent leather,
Knee high boots...
She's an eye popper.
Wearing her pleathered bra.

And at the bar she sits...
Stirring her drink,
With a preferred lemon twist.
To turn to ask...
If I would give her a lift home.
And of course I obliged!
Since her eyes spotted the stiff,
I bore and could not hide.

And she rode me as I drove...
To equal moans and sighs!