twenty fourteen
thinks she should jack in
work
take up other interests
a better class of things
will sort it out some day
if she weren’t trussed up
above tarnished grease
rings
where tea or coffee
slopped
which of course she now
sees
clearly forgot to employ
mop
clot thick with scummy
dust
trapped fully by trick or
trust
ending up bound handcuffed
on this soft cushioned
sofa
legs clenched tight lippy
shut
sunk ankles in clammy ruts
without strength to suck nuts
between her teeth or
tongue
flicking on for Emmerdale’s
palely mediated crises
of sheep sheered rustled
fleeces
more yellow less virgin
white
then sending out search
parties
because it turns out there’s
a draggled missing pussy
and the hound was put down
for vet-worrying when he
entered the barn on a
mission
nothing much little
expression
they stopped full production
years ago sagging badly
which is probably quite
strange
when she binds him in
claims
that they were always at
it
thrusting up and beyond
her neck
like cats and dogs got the
cream
back then in twenty
fourteen
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