Her bathers are scrunched up into a soupy wet ball at the foot of my bed. I smell the crotch. I never know what to do when she isn’t around. I get scary drunk for three days straight and wake up one morning naked on the couch. The cat was in between my legs licking at my thigh, waiting to be fed. It was the closest thing to romance I have felt since I have started taking Prozac. Kills your libido. I imagine her standing in front of the mirror. I’m looking at myself and imagining her. I turn my head on the side, I try and hold myself the way a woman would while she is brushing her hair. Or when she has a tooth ache. Face to the side, jaw pushed out, lips slightly parted.
"Drunk at the matinee" is a collection of candid poetry about stupid shit that we all experience from day to day.
Ben nails it every time what it is to be a man and expressing emotions, haha.
ReplyDeletei salute you, you crazy motherfucker.
cheers willy, appreciate that mate
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