Esther's Pants

Esther’s Pants

Esther used to sell white lace panties

to the bra buying frantic masses

crotchless consumption on the box
giggling her maybe born with it maybelline 
wearing harmony supersoft is she isn't she seen

sofa perching with peephole socks

 her glitterball powder puff cleavage

late-night-morning television camera lingered

sticky flicker handset sucky fingered

a dripping longing kind of phone in moaner

begging you to call her like some loose loner
a flag day waving not drowning 

 wet bent children in need charity donor

weather girl raining scum suds on your parade

should’ve left, should’ve right, should’ve stayed

soured whipped cream rain is very likely

during tonight’s seasick crossing of the lobby

from her gut to Plymouth Sound

tacky gummy stain on zipped-up trousers

because play-pause viewing is an irredeemable hobby

tissues ripped rough from the carton

soaked and sodden it’s true

tightly cupped tits pressed

together with marzipan glue

oozing from last year’s wedding cake

full beam on like erect thrust rippled fabric

or rough shanked nipples like when

she complained it was wrong putting Ed on piano

he was all too shallow

to sing some duff mindless song

like shut the fuck up and dance with me

she groaned she was sure it was

some fucking cack like this or that

or north of northwest Budapest

so clamp her let me leave mouth and give it a rest

because all the mindless proles

who voted for the dole and the rotting coal

dead buried in the ground deserve nothing less

look she’s left them hanging out

in the heat to melt

spilling over her frock leaning forward

legs open cashing in the camera flash

in a Dick Emery exit Brexit babyshambles

oh you are awful waving that thing at me

using your stiff cream to whip up the French letter trifle

blender to sticky mix Dutch oven pancakes

fixing sickly melted wax German candles

to the table top and squatting

repeating dribbling oily custard

up down in out shake it all about

resigned to sounds of beef curtains drip-dripping

twelve rounds of despatch boxer skipping

coy winking in public during the afternoon sitting