The Dukes weren't exactly a fine couple and this they knew.
but, things went rather well as far as okay things do. Then one night, eight exactly, dinner was late and
burned charcoal dusty and the ropes binding their chests twisting tight
with courtesy snapped.
Bang.
Mariposa Duke all house dress stained and menstruation greasy threw the gravy out
the window chanting widow maker prayers of divine condemnation
while Claude staring at shit metaphor flushed the toilet three times in protest,
jelly belly murder mad,
screaming.
Unfortunately
all in all it didn't matter in the end.
And in the end
that ending was all that mattered.
Three years of violence later they divorced.
Him chewing bubble gum,
her chewing lead.
My Company
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