The Chick's in the Mail

[couchgrouch]

The Chick's in the MailAfter he found his woman mule-kicked in the stablehe started watchin' Sex and the City on late-night cableLawdy, how he missed her touch, though he was never muchof a smooth sweet talkerstarted walkin' country two lanes, kickin' beer cans in lonely gamesof hillbilly socceryears of milkin' that old emu made her worn n homelybut love with the lights out sure beat feeling lonelyso he hit on single moms, on e-Harmony.combut hadda post a photoand livin' off possum n tripe, puttin' wild mushrooms in his pipemade him Quasimodoso he got a number from Soldier of Fortune magazinegave his gold card info to some guy in the Philipineswho said "the chick's in the mailit's not just a green card for salebut a wet dream in a wedding veillonely knows no borders and you made your orderso the chick's in the mail"when that sweet thang stepped off the plane from Bangkokhe choked on the pinch beneath his cheek when he saw her tanktopwell, she loved him half to death, she didn't care that his breathwas like a skunk weed smoker'she gave her decks of credit cards, for Target, Sears and K-Martto play some housewife pokerand though her touch burned hotter than tarnationshe was a Buddhist who b'lieved in reincarnationshe wouldn't go near the sow, cook chicken, swine or cowcos they might be her mamaswore the brand on that old emu, looked like her dead uncle's tattooof the Dalai Lamawhen his belly kept reincarnatin' her mashed soy beanshe bought her plane fare and called up the Philipinesand said "the chick's in the mailit's not just a green card for salebut a nightmare in a wedding veilhungry knows no borders you can keep your orderand the chick's in the mail"repeat ch...(c)2007 Robert George