Auckland Poetry

I asked myself
as I was on top
of her—kissing
and squeezing
her soft lumps
of fat.

We went to
her girlfriends
new lovers
house.

It was a shitty
apartment
building back
in the old
neighborhood
I used to live
in.

The lover was
scrawny, hick-ish,
leery, and had
teeth that was
almost yellow
with orange-
brown gunk
filling each
gap.

His bed was
big enough
to accommodate
four.

Before we all
started making
out, he tried
to persuade
us to watch
Nascar videos
(we refused).

Our eyes
opened up
at the same
time as we
rubbed our
tongues
together.

Her brown
eyes seemed
to be asking
me ‘What’re
you doing
here?’

My answer
was to go
down and
slobber all
over the
top of her
plump breast.

***

I forgot about
asking what
I was doing
there.

Her girlfriend
and her lover
wanted to go
somewhere
to eat.

She wanted
to stay there.
I tried to
convince
them that
we would
be fine
hanging
out there
(what I
didn’t tell
them was
that I
intended to
hump her
big ass on
that messy—
probably
disease and
bacteria
filled—bed).

It didn’t
work.

They went
out to
eat and I
left for
home disappointed.

Sometime
after I
long broke
up with
that fat
girl, I had
the unfortunate
luck of
running into
the *now
former*
lover in
the library.
He got
right up
in my
face,
grinning,
and asked
me how
I’ve been.
I told him
I was alright
and quickly
left.
He needs
a dentist—
and if
I didn’t
leave as
soon as
I did, my
fist would
have been
a good
cleaner.

© Garret Schuelke

Trackback URI | Comments RSS