WHILE MAKING LOVE.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A WOMAN'S GRANDMOTHER HAUNTS HER WHILE MAKING LOVE.

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Making love to Chatterton
Is never much fun
While Grandmother sits
On the end of the bed
Filing her phantom nails,
Tut-tutting or criticising,
A cigarette dangling
From her bright red lips,
Her hair tied untidily
On top of her head,
Still advising, even though
She’s ten years dead.

Chatterton doesn’t know.
Who are you talking to?
He asks, when you tell 
Grandmother to go away
Or turn her head; the whole
Circus now turns you off,
You want to get up and get
Dressed, and shoo Grandmother
To the Next World or wherever
She abides when not haunting you.

She shakes her head, exhaling
Ghostly smoke over the bed,
Gazing as Chatterton’s ass rises
And falls in frantic panic
Like some piston in
The engine room of the Titanic.

Her mocking laughter
Fills your ears, undoes
Your passion, as Chatterton
Fulfils his purpose in his fashion.


Submitted: September 30, 2009

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