Evening Date.
Hi come in I've just put on
the Mahler the 3rd Ok? she says
and before you can reply she
ushers you into the lounge where
you remove your coat and hear
the Mahlerian sounds from the hifi
and the smell of her scent and two
glasses of scotch on the small table
by the sofa take a seat she says taking
your coat off to the other room and
you look at the Picasso print on the
wall and think how long before she
tries to undress you and you sit and
she's back and sits beside you and says
drink up and take in the Mahler and
guess who I saw today and she had
the cheek to ask how I was when she
knew she'd been gossiping about me
to the darn neighbours and you sip
the scotch and look at her plump face
and her deep blue eyes and the red
dress she has on and the overbearing
perfume and how her breasts try and
push their way out of the dress and you
try and get a word in something about
the 3rd symphony or how you like the
Picasso print but she talks on and over
you like a tank her words hard biting with
their Gaelic tones and then she puts her
hand on your thigh and rubs it up and down
all the time her words unfaltering stretching
through the air and I told the old crab to
go smell her husband's crotch and that was
it how was your day? she asks looking into
your eyes her hand still rubbing and your
pecker rising and you say a real downer of
a day but whatever now let's just get into
the 3rd and sip our scotch and she smiles
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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