Bargain
The old hooker won't
shut her mouth while
I fuck her, punch her
off and on for the hell
of it.
She mews like a kitten,
brags how Carter once
hired her and Hugh Grant
and even JFK, the day
before his blood flooded
the streets in Texas.
She claims she once
did a Platoon on leave
in Saigon before they
marched back to
rust-
colored jungles and
still has a dried Cong
ear to prove it.
I decline her offer
to show me.
By now, I know she's
delusional. She smells
like stale smoke and
onions, besides, but
the price was right and
a man has
his needs, doesn't he?
Pris Campbell
©2006
Art: Something To Believe In by David Ho
copyrighted and used with permission
David Ho creates stunning images. Please take the time to visit his site HERE.
Return to Poetry
Index I
Return to Homepage
|
