Dead Skunk Season
Born and raised a city girl, I moved to Colorado,
married a handsome cowboy I call my 'desperado.'
One night we were making love beneath the moon,
snuggled together. Oh, how that man could spoon,
when I caught a whiff of something awfully stinky.
I said, "Darlin,' are you doing something kinky?"
He laughed out loud and said, "Honey, get inside.
You've lots to learn about living in the west, my bride.
That stench you're smelling is the nasty odor of funk.
It's roadkill because it's the season of dead skunk."
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