Published April 2, 2007
I saunter up to the deserted bar,
order a Stoli vodka and sit down on the stool,
a woman is eyeing me from afar.
I better try hard to not act like a fool.
She's tall, she's blond, a Slovakian beauty,
she walks over, her eyes an icy stare.
Her eyes a steel blue, cold with cruelty.
She says hello to me over the soccer game blare.
"I'll have what he's having," pointing to my shot glass,
"straight up as well," she tells the barkeep.
She knocks it back fast, this girl's no weak little lass.
Leans in close to me, her scent runs deep.
"Now my fine fellow, you seem to have fine taste,
per chance," she whispers, "per chance may you be a Pole?
Now, now," she points to my glass, "you can't let that go to waste."
I knock mine back as quick as she, it begins to take its toll.
"Yes my dear, I am," I tell her with fresh courage,
"Born and raised in Warsaw, where it can get no colder.
Raised on dry bread and ma's homemade porridge.
Lived there till I was eighteen, and not a day older."
"Haven't been back since," I finished," what about you?"
With a lengthy pause, she asks me, "how about another Stoli,
it would be good for our blood, and will you buy me one too?"
So she begins, "my mother's a Slovak, dad's American, named me Molly."
What a horrid name, but I kept my mouth shut,
and listened politely to her story, as she did mine.
As I listened to her story I couldn't help get the belly fluts.
But I think that was just the liquor and that suited me fine.
Cause all this girl was, was a vodka vixen preying on a regular guy,
and I've fallen into her man trap and I need to get free.
Think I can get out of this, so I got off the stool, the girl looked at me.
So I ordered her another drink, and simply said goodbye.
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141,411 Literary Works • 674,390 Reviews
Rhyming was a little forced. It interferred with the flow a bit, but I like the idea as a whole.
You should revise it. It was pretty cool.
I can't decide about this one. It's a very interesting style. You may have done this purposefully and I'm sure to hear you read it would clear up some of my issues with it, but I don't really understand the meter you put it in. It has very awkward moments and feels like I'm riding in a car with bad shocks on a road full of pot holes, but every once in awhile you get that good smooth section of highway. Do you understand what I'm saying?
) and this poor fellow she's messing with.
It also feels sort of limerick-y at points too but that's probably just the use of the word "lass" in my mind.
I am however in love with your subject and get a very clear mental image of this heavy drinking Czech woman (like a relative that I have
Well, I get mixed feelings from this poem. It reads a bit too much like prose at times, yet it still is good. The informality helps the reader connect, which is good.
The repetition of eyes here, seems a bit awkward. Maybe cut out the "her eyes" part in the first line. I like the alliteration.
Here, I don't know, do people from Poland say lil' often? It seems a little out of place. The only people I can see using that a lot are the Scots - it's probably just a misconception.
"Since I finished" is a bit ambiguous, I'm supposing school but since the reader wouldn't really be sure, it could be left out.
The sentences here get a bit long - this part is what reads more as prose.
Vodka Vixen, nice chose of words.
Yea so, it was good, but sometimes it reads more like prose (as I've said) maybe work on the line structure a bit.
Edit - I didnt actually realise that it was poetry/prose combined. Very well done then. You can ignore some of the "reads to much like prose comments" then.