Unnatural Selection

 

Fist fighting a burly stranger
over a flirty wench named Doris
whom we both wanted to take home

and get intimate with

Like two rams butting heads
to mate with the in heat bitch
who was getting off on the conflict

over her physical affection

as we rolled about brawling

on the sticky tavern floor

which reeked of spilt beer

and fragmented nut shells

It was a lengthy 

perfectly choreographed fight scene

like you see in those old

black and white Western flicks

with John Wayne trading fists

against an anonymous character actor

who always got his ass kicked

by the top billed star in the end

In this action packed edition

it was my turn to play the Duke

as I hit my worthy adversary

whom I did not know

before this manly engagement
with such a perfect blow
I could feel his nasal bones crack
beneath my now very scraped

crimson flooded fist

He dropped in a heap

holding his destroyed face

as I staggered down the bar

to claim my feminine prize

for a night of natural fornication

Alas I was advised

by the pissed off proprietor

of this drinking hole establishment

that the object of my painful desire

had left the scene of the altercation

with a suave pacifist

tax accountant named Clyde

who drove a baby blue Ferrari

and promised my now absent love

an unlimited coke supply

I brought a dirty bar crying towel

wrapped with ice to be applied

to the proboscis

of my former adversary

to stem the red tide

Of course I bought my new friend

an adult beverage

as we dissected the cause

of our inglorious encounter

and mutually lamented

the utter futility

of intergender relationships

for damaged mutts like us

in the 21st Century