The fresh meat sat beside me
and said that I looked safe
I pointed to the tear drops
tattooed upon my face
“You know what these mean?”
I questioned the newbie now.
“It means you paid good money for
ugly marks inked to your brow?”
“Good money, yes,” I set him straight,
“but for a reason true.
Two tears are beneath my eye
for a body count of two.”
“This is the county jail,” he said,
It’s not for heinous crimes.
Petty things like booze or drugs
Offenses with small time.”
“You’re right, I said, “I’m here
for trial while state collects the proof.”
A guard walked by, banged my table,
then he shouted, “Woof!”
I chuckled out and told the boy,
“It signifies ‘Big Dog’
So do what I tell you at all times
and we will get along.”
The rookie knew he picked wrong
and looked to move his chair.
I stopped him cold, “Stay by me.
Don’t you move. Don’t even dare.”
He gulped a bit then stared back
as I pointed to my tears,
“This one is for that brown eyed bitch,
the one who put me here.”
“She felt so soft, smelled so good,
and fought so very little.
Sure she yelped and howled a bit,
but I thought I had submittal.”
“Yelped and howled?” he quizzed me,
“then I must have missed the point.
What crime did you really do
to land you in the joint?”
“That’s my style of language use.
I mean she screamed alot,”
I added on, “but she turned to bite
so I had to kill the slut.”
A guard walked by and on the table
he placed a leather leash.
I thought fast, “He’s telling you
I’ll walk you where I please.”
Again he spoke while pointing
to the tattoos of the drops,
“The second one, was it for
another bitch you were atop?”
If it’s so, then I am safe
for you only violate girls.”
“Really,” I said, “this is jail.
Any port within the storm.”
He gulped again, and stared ahead.
I knew he’d be my bitch
Until the cop came up again
and pulled a nasty switch.
He exchanged the leather leash for
a collar he put down,
“Don’t let him fool you boy.
The brown eyed bitch was a hound.”
