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March |
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a poem by Lara Konesky (1 of 3)
compromise
Hi, I am a lowlife whore
I have morality that sits situational, while I smoke and
your mother dies of cancer
I probably fucked your husband or boyfriend or
your son or your daughter or my married boss
I only say 'probably' to avoid argument later
when I have to animatedly deny my
actions and make sure that in the end,
you are the asshole
I lie like rising suns and burned ant pavements and
temperature change
I lie like I love, too often, too hard, too unrealistically
I am not empathetic, and my pussy is a revolving
door, tricked out without
eye contact. I have had two herpes scares.
Both turned out to be heat rash.
I look good on paper, but bad in the light
I'm caked on like a corpse
and just as dead
But, I am always willing to compromise
I have morality that sits situational, while I smoke and
your mother dies of cancer
I probably fucked your husband or boyfriend or
your son or your daughter or my married boss
I only say 'probably' to avoid argument later
when I have to animatedly deny my
actions and make sure that in the end,
you are the asshole
I lie like rising suns and burned ant pavements and
temperature change
I lie like I love, too often, too hard, too unrealistically
door, tricked out without
eye contact. I have had two herpes scares.
Both turned out to be heat rash.
and just as dead
© by Lara Konesky
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #8 ~ March 2010
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