French

French

A Poem by Maxwell Ryder

She had an assorted 
Spray of sores 
That left no part of 
Her lips unturned 
to kiss, 
Yet her client 
Looked her up 
And down, 
Declaring, 
I can find other 
avenues to fulfill 
my love; 
How good is your French? 
She responded, 
I don’t know, 
How well do you spit?

© 2019 Maxwell Ryder


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

this is sardonically funny...thanks for the smile...
j.

Posted 6 Years Ago


:) I came, I read. I smiled. I left.
( I liked this btw)

Posted 6 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

59 Views
2 Reviews
Rating
Added on February 13, 2019
Last Updated on February 14, 2019

Author

Maxwell Ryder
Maxwell Ryder

OK



About
Teacher, reader, news and poetry junkie more..

Writing