***WARNING CONTAINS ADULT
LANGUAGE AND CONTENT***
They sunbath under books
As an excuse not to talk.
His working class body
Pickled with beer and
crisp
Evenings in the legion,
While she fed the kids
With scraps of kindness.
A catch of the day
Now rotten, lying by a
beach
Tropical rum punch drunk:
'You used to be so
handsome,
What happened' she
thinks,
'Did the factory steal
your hair
Did the fumes bloat your
belly...'
He scalds her with
whiskey
Her cnut a vase.
'Swallow my seed so it
may grow
into another big dumb
English rose,
In that pasty dome of
yours,'
He cries, but...
The cries barely crack
the silence.
Don’t tell me SHE of all
people
Is infected with tragedy,
he thinks
Drinking poison just to
puke it up,
But a bit always remains
Breeding in his gut,
mutating
Multiplying maleficent,
A tortuous angry bug
gnawing
And he feeds it like a
pet
Hoping it will not leave
him,
Just as he hopes she
won't,
For any friend will do
When the night is filled
with razor blades.
She flirts with the black
muscle
Her quim quivers, she
will fcuk him
One night in the john
When her husband is blind
drunk
On bitterness hiding
inside The Sun.
Then with a cnut full of
seed
She'll tell him,
Tell him her cervix is
bloated
That his skinny blue vein
Is an abonination
Till her grabs her and
turns her,
So she rises to the
ceiling like a creamy blamange
And he fills her with
dead seed
And all the while she
rubs herself
And is reminded how they
used to fcuk
And thinks, perhaps,
She could love him once
again, perhaps.
No comments:
Post a Comment