Oink

The maid comes by each day at nine.
A pretty thing, her name is Rosa.
I don't think she likes me much.
I'm just another horny gringo,
Leering as she bends across the bed
To change my sheets. There's
Something in the way she looks
That almost shouts, “I'm not
A whore! I am a maid, a girl
Who can't go to college, so she
Works for pocket change for
Filthy pigs, like you!” I can't
Say that I'm not a pig or tell
Her that she has me wrong.
I wait until she's finished. Then
I shower and I change my clothes,
And trot downstairs to settle in
Behind the trough.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 57 times
Written on 2017-03-01 at 19:13

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