deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Wisdom of Paying for it
When I found out
she had slept with the Italian
(before the abortion)
wifey could no longer face sex,
screaming I could screw around
with whoever I wanted
She snarled like a whipped bitch,
shouted it was all my fault
and locked herself away for days
leaving me uncomfortably numb
drowning in a perverse sexual limbo
I couldn't face a new relationship
any feelings I had left for wifey
seemed perilous enough
and I didn't want to heap even more jealousy
upon a bed tarnished too deeply already
But two blocks from Hyde Park,
outside our green front door
with its calmly inviting letterbox and classy brass knocker
where loving hands cradled a polished heart
the grubby delights of Bayswater steamed full ahead
through an ocean of hustlers pimps and whores
Perhaps it's a mistake not to have embraced sin
before you move on from this life
not to have tasted debauchery
or thrust your tongue into forbidden glory
to waggle it around a bit
just once
if only to savour those scents and sighs
jerking in time to the oldest tune
beyond the carnal throb
of the red light's lusty glow
And so I paid,
for the first and only time in my life
cash
in advance
She lied that she was 21
settling her mortgage the fast way
her mother so terribly ill
how sad her life must have been...
I wasn't listening
and I didn't care
wildly grabbing her long dark hair
twisting it in knots like reins
I bit and smacked
and slapped and swore
until she pleaded with tears
for the storm in my balls
to rush and rage to an end
I wanted the condom to break
I wanted wifey to be there
to sit on the bed next to us
and dissect each dying sperm
to understand exactly
how shallow the world felt
to drink the emptiness of the moment
But at least,
slinking home to my cold sofa downstairs
in terms of infidelity, now we were equal
We could start again
to begin the process of forgiveness
and so in one respect alone
the hole in my wallet
seemed like money
wisely spent
she had slept with the Italian
(before the abortion)
wifey could no longer face sex,
screaming I could screw around
with whoever I wanted
She snarled like a whipped bitch,
shouted it was all my fault
and locked herself away for days
leaving me uncomfortably numb
drowning in a perverse sexual limbo
I couldn't face a new relationship
any feelings I had left for wifey
seemed perilous enough
and I didn't want to heap even more jealousy
upon a bed tarnished too deeply already
But two blocks from Hyde Park,
outside our green front door
with its calmly inviting letterbox and classy brass knocker
where loving hands cradled a polished heart
the grubby delights of Bayswater steamed full ahead
through an ocean of hustlers pimps and whores
Perhaps it's a mistake not to have embraced sin
before you move on from this life
not to have tasted debauchery
or thrust your tongue into forbidden glory
to waggle it around a bit
just once
if only to savour those scents and sighs
jerking in time to the oldest tune
beyond the carnal throb
of the red light's lusty glow
And so I paid,
for the first and only time in my life
cash
in advance
She lied that she was 21
settling her mortgage the fast way
her mother so terribly ill
how sad her life must have been...
I wasn't listening
and I didn't care
wildly grabbing her long dark hair
twisting it in knots like reins
I bit and smacked
and slapped and swore
until she pleaded with tears
for the storm in my balls
to rush and rage to an end
I wanted the condom to break
I wanted wifey to be there
to sit on the bed next to us
and dissect each dying sperm
to understand exactly
how shallow the world felt
to drink the emptiness of the moment
But at least,
slinking home to my cold sofa downstairs
in terms of infidelity, now we were equal
We could start again
to begin the process of forgiveness
and so in one respect alone
the hole in my wallet
seemed like money
wisely spent
Published 13th Jan 2011
| Edited 14th Jul 2012
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The author encourages honest critique.
13th Jan 2011 9:26pm
We do you a dis-service...lots of good stuff in here, if a little impersonal (although I guess that is the point).
A fine ditty, and leaves me feeling a little bit like I need to wash my hands.
A fine ditty, and leaves me feeling a little bit like I need to wash my hands.
Pass the Dettol darling
to chase away those germs
they're swarming on my keyboard
if I swat them they just squirms
Let's nuke the little bleeders
and suffocate their air
we'll ship the bodies to New Zealand
it's cleaner over there
to chase away those germs
they're swarming on my keyboard
if I swat them they just squirms
Let's nuke the little bleeders
and suffocate their air
we'll ship the bodies to New Zealand
it's cleaner over there
14th Jan 2011 11:54am
the raw here is wonderful. you play it out exactly how you mean to in confusion, trying to be objective, succumbing, becoming equal. it's rough as a subject, but silky flow. and that line change was a good one for clarity: "how shallow"
all this effusive praise gets tiresome, doesn't it? i'm really trying not to overload.
all this effusive praise gets tiresome, doesn't it? i'm really trying not to overload.
