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Paula Swanson
Poems
Jun 2010
Soul Of A Stripper, Life Of A Housewife
The music thumps, the walls jump,
she pole dances against the jamb.
Dust rag in her right.
polish in her left hand.
House is hers for a few hours
to fulfill a fantasy.
Bump and grind it babe,
the vacumn whiiiirrrs away.
Shake that *****, strut that stuff,
transfer clothes in washer to dryer.
Wearing faded blue jeans,
kick that leg up higher.
Beds are made, bunnies dusted,
she cat walks looking demure.
Practices a sultry pout,
wiping spots from the mirror.
Work the shoulders, drop to a deep squa,t
then stick the **** up in the air.
Family is due home very soon,
straighten her clothing with care.
Greet the kids with hugs, husband with kisses,
getting dinner to the table.
While news plays in the background,
her life is happy, solid and stable.
Dishes washed, kids off to sleep,
taking my husband by the hand,
this housewife leads him to our room,
where her stripper soul takes command
re-post. Oldy but a fun one
Written by
Paula Swanson
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Gemini Baker
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