Sunday, 20 October 2019

Twenty Fourteen


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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