deepundergroundpoetry.com
Talking to Strangers about Sex and Sunsets
Whispered ectoplasm dawn
softly buries screaming ghosts,
broken are the weeping windows
thou her morning opening
swings silent doors open
If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir
softly buries screaming ghosts,
broken are the weeping windows
thou her morning opening
swings silent doors open
If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir
Published 11th Apr 2025
Author's Note
One night stands are as soul-less as the UK monarchy (and that's saying something)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 7
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
11th Apr 2025 10:40pm
A-fucking-men
We lost the art of depth for the shallow gasping of here and now. We are the now generation and in that we lose the art of being human
Poignant and cutting with your usual display of vivid imagery
We lost the art of depth for the shallow gasping of here and now. We are the now generation and in that we lose the art of being human
Poignant and cutting with your usual display of vivid imagery
13th Apr 2025 11:04am
Thanks Tod. You were one of the first who offered encouragement when I arrived here, which seems decades ago now.
13th Apr 2025 11:59am
What can I say, you can fucking write your ass off, and I like good writing, as to encouragement you’re welcome for that,
but if this was written on a milk carton in crayon I’d still be hyped up by the words.
The fact that I can tell an author how good something is or what I saw/felt and we can exchange ideas is what makes this place, well made this place something special
but if this was written on a milk carton in crayon I’d still be hyped up by the words.
The fact that I can tell an author how good something is or what I saw/felt and we can exchange ideas is what makes this place, well made this place something special
12th Apr 2025 3:32pm
I fucking can’t with this. I can. not.
“If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir”
Jesus. That’s… omg.
If she forgets my name then the temptation is just another bit in the slaughterhouse.
If she! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Just another cut off piece to feed a maw.
And this?
“vodka breath beneath her legs”
I can’t stop turning that phrase over.
Your vodka breath, or is the feel of drunken ladybits as anesthesiatic…
One night stands. Fuck. Just… you painted it well.
“If she forgets my name
by the evening rush-hour
distilled by memories of
vodka breath between her legs,
then temptation is merely another
limb in the human abattoir”
Jesus. That’s… omg.
If she forgets my name then the temptation is just another bit in the slaughterhouse.
If she! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Just another cut off piece to feed a maw.
And this?
“vodka breath beneath her legs”
I can’t stop turning that phrase over.
Your vodka breath, or is the feel of drunken ladybits as anesthesiatic…
One night stands. Fuck. Just… you painted it well.
13th Apr 2025 11:05am
Very kind Betty. Such comments seem to validate the existence of my words on the screen.
12th Apr 2025 4:43pm
You had me at "Whispered ectoplasmic dawn"....now that's the way you start a poem!
Procreation aside, sex is supposed to be an exchange of energy & soul: the good and the bad, the pain & pleasure, all the cruelties & traumas. Proceed with caution. You might end up with some of it on ya.
(I now live the monastic life, free of this dreadful responsibility lol)
I really like your use of the word 'abattoir' here. Great writing!
Procreation aside, sex is supposed to be an exchange of energy & soul: the good and the bad, the pain & pleasure, all the cruelties & traumas. Proceed with caution. You might end up with some of it on ya.
(I now live the monastic life, free of this dreadful responsibility lol)
I really like your use of the word 'abattoir' here. Great writing!
13th Apr 2025 11:08am
Many thanks. I live a very gentle & humble life these days. But from time to time the past comes knocking and it's rude not to open the door.
