Cita Con La Viuda

There's a girl named Hermida who climbs, climbs
she's almost on our backs
trying to drain our tear ducts
by telling us all the bad news.
With a sheepish grin
she's filling up her wallet,
but no one can miss
that she's a scavenger vulture.

She asks her guest in a friendly tone:
"How's your incurable quadriplegia?"
then she asks another about his accident.
The more blood there is, the more enticing.

Bad taste is in style.
Sensitive folks, screw you.
You'll go down in history
as terminally ill.

Nieves, you stink.