Miss Pinkie
pours me scotch
in a glass
any ice?
no thank you
I slip slow
allowing
to swirl round
my twenty six
year old mouth
she sits down
beside me
she wears that
polka dot
red short dress
and the blue
cardigan
her dyed brown
cropped hair style
want music?
got Mahler?
yes of course
she gets up
and puts on
a Mahler
symphony
on her old
gramophone
as she bends
I spy red
underwear
unattached
to the light
brown stockings
she comes back
and sits down
Mahler starts
lights are low
can I smoke?
sure you can
she replies
I light up
so does she
how is she?
she asks me
who is that?
the slim girl
at the home
pretty thing
all brains but
no knockers
Miss Pinkie
says softly
we just talk
I reply
about what?
poetry
modern art
politics
is that all?
yes that's all
she inhales
and stares cool
exhaling
any ***
of course not
not with her
why not her?
I don't know
we're silent
Mahler plays
we smoke on
sip whiskies
I study
her two chins
her blue eyes
her thick thighs
the last time
we had ***
she mutters
it was good
on the couch
till you fell
to the floor
half way through
she was right
'bout that night
MAN LIFEBOATS
MAN OVERBOARD
she shouts out
too loudly
she stubs out
the wasted
cigarette
so do I
how about
my big bed?
she asks me
if you like
I reply
thinking of
the slim girl
with the brains
and hot ***
in the back
of her car
that image
in my head
as we walk
to her bed
her plump ****
swaying slow
to Mahler
the moonlight
in the sky
this is how
the world ends
no big bang
just a long
drawn out sigh.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Miss Pinkie
pours me scotch
in a glass
any ice?
no thank you
I slip slow
allowing
to swirl round
my twenty six
year old mouth
she sits down
beside me
she wears that
polka dot
red short dress
and the blue
cardigan
her dyed brown
cropped hair style
want music?
got Mahler?
yes of course
she gets up
and puts on
a Mahler
symphony
on her old
gramophone
as she bends
I spy red
underwear
unattached
to the light
brown stockings
she comes back
and sits down
Mahler starts
lights are low
can I smoke?
sure you can
she replies
I light up
so does she
how is she?
she asks me
who is that?
the slim girl
at the home
pretty thing
all brains but
no knockers
Miss Pinkie
says softly
we just talk
I reply
about what?
poetry
modern art
politics
is that all?
yes that's all
she inhales
and stares cool
exhaling
any ***
of course not
not with her
why not her?
I don't know
we're silent
Mahler plays
we smoke on
sip whiskies
I study
her two chins
her blue eyes
her thick thighs
the last time
we had ***
she mutters
it was good
on the couch
till you fell
to the floor
half way through
she was right
'bout that night
MAN LIFEBOATS
MAN OVERBOARD
she shouts out
too loudly
she stubs out
the wasted
cigarette
so do I
how about
my big bed?
she asks me
if you like
I reply
thinking of
the slim girl
with the brains
and hot ***
in the back
of her car
that image
in my head
as we walk
to her bed
her plump ****
swaying slow
to Mahler
the moonlight
in the sky
this is how
the world ends
no big bang
just a long
drawn out sigh.
A YOUNG MAN AND OLDER WOMAN AND *** IN 1974.
Request permission to use this poem