Wednesday, March 28, 2012


His head ached.
There was a sharp pain
To the back of his head
That screamed for attention,
Pulling him through the fog
Of unconsciousness
And confusion.

He reached back
To touch the epicenter
Of his agony and
There he found a lump
Crested by broken skin
That was oozing blood.

It took him a while
To recognise his surroundings,
A shabby hotel room
With the barest of furnishings.
Slowly, he remembered
What brought him to
This little patch of Earth.

He reached for his wallet.
It was there, but
The cash was gone.
She probably took it,
She would have gotten it
If she had lived up
To the arrangement.

She was new to the strip,
A pretty little thing
With pert breasts and
A round ass that
Made his manhood
Jump into life.

He had brought her
To the hotel,
Her face was always
In the shadows,
His was the same.

The hotel room was dark
As they entered,
He went straight to the bed
And sprawled across it,
She went into the bathroom.

Through the bathroom door,
She told him to lie
On his stormach,
She liked to give
Her "men" a massage
To start things off.

Like a good boy,
He did as he was told.
A few minutes later,
He heard the squeak
Of the door opening
And closing.

Anticipation grew
In his stomach and
Flooded his body,
He was primed for
Carnal pleasure,
Instead he was struck
And the world turned black.

The next morning,
He sat at the dining table
In his suburban home.
His wife was chattering
About something he could
Careless about and
His daughter was quiet.

Usually, the teenager
Would be verbally vollying
With her mother,
But that morning,
Something was off.

She looked nervous,
Her movements were shaky
And now and then,
she would sneak a look
At her father.

Then she asked questions
That would change
the dynamic of their

How was your night?
How is your head?"


Robert Gibson said...


My mouth dropped....




Was not expecting that....

Paul said...

Well conceived and written, how wrong/confused can our world be...good poem!