Welcome to My Poetry Site
I could see I'd got it totally wrong
The minute I walked in the door,
She'd got her working lips on,
None of your soft yielding malarkey
For me today, unmoistened take it
Or leave it peck and they'd gone lips.
I hate times like these, not knowing
What I've done, or what to expect,
But whatever it was it was big, and
Likely to be good for hours, days,
Could go on for weeks, sometimes
longer than that. Silent treatment,
Noisy pottery, banging doors, full
Make-up, plunging neckline for the
Butcher, naked aggression for me.
Hard and parched cold inquisitor
'Don't pretend you don't know lips,'
'OK, hands up, what have I done or
Not done?' 'You don't know do you?'
Luckily, I have a magic money-clip,
We’re going out tonight for a bit of a do,
Full-trip, top hotel, top restaurant, limo
there and back. Works like a salve on
Working lips, softens 'em up a treat.
As for what had I done? Well, turns out
It didn’t matter.
© Joseph G Dawson