The Shitty Skull Sketch Project

I first saw her from across the cafe.
Clothed in black, pen in hand.
Brooding, brooding, brooding.
"It's poetry she's writing," thought I,
As I studied her bent figure scribbling fast.

The June Umbrella then caught my gaze,
Cowboy shirt wearing lead singer killin' it hard.
I stared into his eyes and he stared back,
Was that a wink? No. He must be queer
Bait.

Moving toward the bathroom later,
(the band was takin' a break for ganj),
I passed the poet woman and her pen.
Brooding, brooding, brooding.

And then I saw it, what the hell?
She was sketching, not composing a poem.

I think it was a skull that she was trying to draw,
or was it a baby?
I looked to see if her eyes were closed,
or maybe she was missing several fingers.
But she wasn't and they weren't.

That's one shitty skull sketch,
shittiest ever.

Or perhaps she's drawing with a single piece of 0.7 lead,
cause that's real hard.
But she wasn't and they weren't.