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Presumptive Promiscuity.

It was whilst having a beer or three

that I heard them say that

that club across the way

smelled of chlamydia.

And I thought it no more than

a witty remark

until their own stench permeated

the air.

From the window, the street sign, aptly

branded out of cold metal

spelled, ‘Love Street.’

Irony lives here, I remember thinking.

The bottom of my glass was visible

as I supped.

The Last Supper. Jesus. That was the

last one, I swear.

So.

I thought about telling them, yelling,

”Hey – you were around in the

seventies”

Or, ”You can’t kid a kidder!” but I’d

had one too many and this was not

about me. Or them. Or anyone.

That girl that they’re pawing over

is clearly

a slut; she’ll be fucked

from pillar to post.

Well, good on you, girl. Wait. Did I just

think that?

Say that?

Fuck

you three. And not in a good way.

Who am I?

Oh, just listening in,

Judging you, Judging them.

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About GinAndTulips

Gin and Tulips; The home of the frolicking G&T Lovers. Come in, pull up a comfy seat and make yourself at home. And if you like it. Join us.

One response »

  1. There once was a girl
    Perhaps a little drunk and dreamy
    Who wasn’t exactly fond
    Of her companions or their company

    Reply

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