The Bitch End of the Night

 
Love wants to bleed again
but the deepest cuts
trace a desert of stars so remote
not even Death's brightest red stockings
could straighten the bend in my cock
or drag that hunger there
 
The love of my life  
had the finest legs I ever saw
She liked to tease all the guys
wear the shortest skirts
but even inked with my name
her thighs  
were never quite silky enough
to quench the gurgle of rain
while I was rocking the bed  
elsewhere
 
Down at the clubhouse
the North wind's whore  
had thrust her therapy in my ear
Lust's just  
a chemical malaise, she said
and love
could be easily repaired
 
She knew how to  
smuggle out secrets
from the ache that grew in a man's balls
after a lifetime of missing church
and how to suck  
a snaggle tooth straight
while joyless grubbing fingers
groped redemption
from a fistful of filthy words
 
And so another  
fifty dollar asshole
gets spread and filled
oozing open on a motel bed  
scores par for the course  
driving home  
the bitch end  
of the night