she is shrill and tawdry
as a gaudy ankle tattoo,
an unwise tequila decision,
in the throes of the morning after,
etched on a barefoot backup country singer,
lustily shaking a tambourine
at the side of the stage.
her high strung brittle beauty
carries an early use-by date.
her hair a cloud of sunshine,
her laugh bitter at the edges,
she never thinks much past tomorrow
and is destined to curdle like cream
left out too long on a summer day.