Friday, 8 July 2016

Bumps and Splendours

The heavy boardroom table thrums,
your icon flashing within the
cup of my palm, urgent.

A glance assures all around are
comatose as the CEO drones,
oblivious to your nudity.

Thrum: “Bored darling? Me too.
Thinking of Room Service and
what he would find.”

Thrum: “There’s a fateful knocking.
Am I too bare to dare to
answer such a summons?”

Thrum: “And I have no money!
With what can I tip him for
champagne with no cash?”

Thrum: “Seriously vexed! He was like
80 and wretched and kept his
eyes on the carpet!”

Thrum: Photo of a humdrum
hotel carpet “Seriously, do I have to
go down to the hotel bar….

Thrum: “…and thrust my
tits at some lonely out-of-town
salesman to get some…

Thrum: “…attention, or are you going to
get up here pronto and remind me
how you love my….

Thrum: “…lumps and bumps and

(Image used by kind permission of to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

1 comment:

  1. Thrum: "LOVE this! Your word choices, as always, make the scene. Particularly the play between text messages and "vintage" words like summons and vexed. ~C