Thursday 24 May 2012

GOING HOME WITH

I'd pick them up in bars, target the suited boys
on gin and slim, fingering the white space
where the ring had been. I'd be drunk, need
to find a bed to kip in. I was hotter then, attracted
fat, married business types like a run on a bank.
The men would take me home. I'd be all
Mr. Passive in the cab, call them sir, let them spit
champagne in my mouth. I loved them
feeling me up like a wife. Some of them paid.
Some didn't. Others just talked.



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