‘I read a good book by Tolstoy
only I have forgotten its title,
something about love and betrayal’
Jane the barmaid said.
Don’t bother your pretty head about that drinkers said,
they loved her body and girlish voice,
but gave a damn about her mind.
Jane sighed and thought:
When is anyone going to love just me
and listen to what I’ve to say?
One night a new patron came into the bar
he spoke to her about Hemingway,
which also Jane had read,
thought she had found her man
and promptly fell in love;
for only to be bitterly disappointed.
It turned out that he was,
a married English teacher
who had soft spoken her into bed,
and couldn’t care less about her mind.
Betrayed her cruelly,
treated her worse than the regulars who,
after all, were ignorant and honestly lecherous.
Back to the bar she went,
served drinks to men with sweaty palms,
smiled and smiled she did,
playing the dumb blond
while saving money to buy more books.