The Last Tattoo

Sometimes the ink of the artist can be used as a weapon of spite.

(based on a real fear of a certain woman)

The Last Tattoo

By Robin Scott Johnson

 

I’d had a few drinks and began to believe,

I had to venture to the parlor for some ink;

A long yoked anchor on  below my sleeve,

And a date with the artist dressed in pink.

 

After our date we went on and on,

For days, then weeks, then months,

Soon she hated and was no longer fond,

I too was tired of all her stunts.

 

So I decided to leave her but a deal she  made,

A final tattoo to remember our affair.

A hammerhead shark its teeth in a mermaid,

Our break up would be not so hard to bear.

 

She injected the ink with a glimmer in her eye,

And performed her art with skill and care;

When she was done I asked her why,

Why had she hurt me and didn’t care.

 

“You’ve broken my heart, Robin my dear,

And so you’ve received the special ink,

You will not last the day, it is all you can bear,

It is the last tattoo from the artist in pink.

 

The mermaid screams with me as I expire,

I can not move, or breath, or feel spite,

The grieving begins, the pyre is afire,

I’ll soon burn, my soul will become a’light.

 

Copyright © 2007 Robin Scott Johnson Ltd.