chowder

I stared into her soft brown eyes
and told lies
she believed;
a nice girl
from a nice Mid-Western family…
One night
she sat on my bed
as I undressed
not caring if it was wrong
not caring that I was the devil’s spawn
with horns on my crown–
my cock
like a truncheon
hung down to my knees–
she stared at it, her
lips parted, and
as soon as I laid down
she went to work
sucking and
slurping
drool running out her mouth
stopping once and
apologising for being loud
(“that’s alright”)
I went off
like a fire hose
and she
gulped
gulped
and swallowed.

Photo by Dids on Pexels.com

---

facial

she took it like a sword swallow-er
in and out, the
length of it, her
lips gripping me like a baby’s fist;
I jerked her head back
and she said “don’t”–
I shot a full-load
that splattered her glasses
and her red lips parted, white
teeth flashed in a smile;
I squeezed another burst
like bullets from a machine gun
and was surprised
afterward
no pock marks on her
face.

---

drops

I lived in a room in a hotel
in Boston
ten X ten
with a view;
I felt lonely and out of it, wherever
“it” was, and
sorry for myself too
because
could not make a friend
of even one of the million others…
One night, I walked in the rain
block after block
down Boylston Street
and across the Common
the rain running down my neck
my back
I came to a building festively lit
3 girls ran out of it
laughing
one ran to me
took my face in her
hands and bent
for a closer look
UGH
she said, pulled
back and
ran
to her friends.

 

Wayne F. Burke’s poetry has been widely published online and in print (including in 1870). He is author of seven published full-length poetry collections, most recently ESCAPE FROM THE PLANET CROUTON, Luchador Press, 2019. He lives in Vermont.