Wednesday, August 12, 2009


He struts, shakes his pompadour back, preening, I think.
I can't be sure because he's so far away
but it looks like preening to me anyway.
Last time I saw him,
He was biting her neck, hard,
while he bent her over, spread her legs with his knees and fucked her.
She didn't say a word, just stared out into nothing,
and after, staggered away, numb, perhaps bemused by the experience.
Now, he preens,
makes himself pretty for another one.
"Hi, have we met, you sure are cute, anything you want, I can get you.
Why don't you come over here?" and wham!
Another one. Another notch in his asshole belt.
I sit here, sipping my tea, watching out the window.
Ducks aren't so different from people

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