Lola Was A Bowler

Lola was a bowler

Who lived across the Lane

Lola owned a corner lot

Five miles from the Main.

Lola had a neighbor

Who was an engineer

Who had a wife, two kids

And one ass kicking career.

His name was Bruce.

Bruce was loose

A Jimmy Buffet fan

Lola liked to shmooze with Bruce

 And chat woman to man.

Lola didn't truly think

That fences made good neighbors.

Lo and Bru loved to wink

And do each other favors.

One day lonely Lola

Was feeling kinda down

She pined for Bruce for grins

But Bruce was not around.

So Lola took a stroll 

To her neighbor's backyard.

Sat down in the children's sandbox

And started breathing hard

Yeah for sure, her life had been

No walk in the park

Rolling loads of gutter balls

Whistling in the dark.

Couldn't find a spark,

A beer frame of contentment

Which left lots of alley space

For splits, taps and resentment.

She thought about the divots

In her bowling ball

And about the parrot head

Who seemed to have it all.

Yet what they had between them

Was some common grass

Of which, they both ageed,

It grew too goddamned fast.

Bruce would ride his tractor

While talking on the phone.

Lola pushed her mower three times a week, alone.

Every step reminding her 

Of her lot in life

Angry that no anchor man

Had marked her for a wife.

She knew in her heart 

That mean streets would grow meaner.

Then she noticed of their lawns,

Her grass was much the greener.

The difference in the color

Could not be denied

Lola rose from the sandbox

And smiled with striking pride.

Understanding her corner home

Was her Northern Tara

She could roll another day

Just like Scarlett O'Hara

Before the wind blew her away.