The Job Is Yours

He flicked through the photo album
Like a tramp with a half eaten kebab,

The cooling meat smiled,
Left his fingers all slimy and damp,

Hot with sauce and excitement,
The new pitiful joy.

He whispered, ‘that one’
And swallowed it whole,

No need for chewing,

A greasy streak left on his chin,
A wide smile as he sighed content,

All satisfied and simply done,
Like a sweet post coital slump.

‘The job is yours.’

4 Responses to “The Job Is Yours”

  1. What impressive new work you’ve been posting. It’s always a joy and a treat to read your poetry. Truly, fantastic work.

  2. Wow – thanks Alicia. Love it when you stop by 🙂

  3. I visit nearly each day. I find that even in the darkest confessions of your poetry, they always manage to somehow leave me with a feeling of contentment and acceptance . More soon please.

  4. I’m really enjoying your sense of humour today. Youre on top form.

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