Screwed ~

Screwed ~

You screwed me over on the apartment,
The walls which decorated the rooms,
Caved, and the ceiling was at your feet with tangy rinds,
And the bathroom was a tsunami,
While you readied your place for another client as I,
Worked the night.

~ * ~

The addiction and smells,
Of the greasy food,
Wafting up from every angle,
Of the long, silver tables remind me.

The pain,
Piercing each one of my nostrils,
From the nostalgia that it brings with it.
My booth smells like Mexican food all day,
Stacked with boxes of leftovers from the previous day,
Which keep building.
Souvenirs from the men who had,
Wished to gain favor with their impressive,
Pocketbooks,
As they opened their wallets so that both flaps-
Wide open,
Lavished an extreme tip along.

The coffee, going down,
Now a brownish color that oozes,
A dark liquid one wouldn’t want their lips to be touching.
An impressive interplay between the forms sit and stand.

My dragon piece undulates,
Sitting on the black square which is my chest,
As I look into the cut like an astronaut looking down.
Sickeningly bobs up and down,
As I rest weight upon my hips leaning backward.

~ * ~

You screwed me over on the apartment,
But I still tried to love you,
Even if the smells were disgusting and I,
Lost sight of my heavy metal dragon weight . . .
Covering up my neck.

Reviews

[Graham Plantagenet]

An interesting piece. I like your pose. I find myself wanting to get to know the poetess.