The Pink Pussycat
An irreverent poem
You’ve stayed in motels, I’m sure, and if you’re unfortunate, the walls are paper thin, and worse, a street girl has been paid and all you can hear is her violently shagging him.
I lay and listen as they struggle and grunt, kisses intent on pleasuring their souls, while they suck and fuck, finger and linger, as if their lovemaking is way out of control.
I hammer on the wall, hoping they’ll heed my call, asking for them to keep it down in there, but the screams of delight went on through the night and I lay there in utter despair.
I wanted to sleep and was ready to bang on their door, but then I remember the angel of my heart, waiting patiently at home for me to take my place on her stomach with her legs apart.
So I pick up the phone to make a call home, tell her I cannot wait to see her face, longing to be with her in bed but instead I’m listening to other people shag in this pokey old place.
I put the phone down, a heavy burden lifted from my heart, and wrote on the thin walls of this dirty motel, about hearing the screams, saying I’ll return, bring my wife, and fuck like we do in our dreams.
More from Harry:
Adrienne Beaumont, The Sturg, Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles, Trisha Faye, Karen Schwartz, Nancy Oglesby, Katie Michaelson, Bernie Pullen, Michelle Jimerson Morris, Amy, Julia A. Keirns, Pamela Oglesby, Tina, Pat Romito LaPointe, Brandon Ellrich, Misty Rae, Karen Hoffman, Susie Winfield, Vincent Pisano, Marlene Samuels, Ray Day, Randy Pulley, Michael Rhodes, Lu Skerdoo, Pluto Wolnosci 🟣, Paula Shablo, Bruce Coulter, Ellen Baker, Kelley Murphy, Leigh-Anne Dennison, Patricia Timmermans, Keeley Schroder, Jan Sebastian 🖐👩🦰, James Michael Wilkinson, Whye Waite, John Hansen, Trudy Van Buskirk, Robert Bush | Dixie Dodd
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Thanks for reading.
