Predator Party Girl

Status: Finished

Predator Party Girl

Status: Finished

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Predator Party Girl

Poem by: donkylemore

Genre: Commercial Fiction

Houses:

Poem by: donkylemore

Details

Genre: Commercial Fiction

Houses:

Summary



Bow down to her on Sunday's
Salute her when her Birthday comes

Bob Dylan

Summary



Bow down to her on Sunday's
Salute her when her Birthday comes

Bob Dylan

Content

Submitted: November 24, 2011

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Content

Submitted: November 24, 2011

A A A

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She gave some  thought into what to wear
Not too formal, not too casual;  and just that little bit of flare
Then what to bring
Flowers, chocolates;  a fragrant candle ; and  a little something
With a little  teensy little  bit of bling

Now. Who’ll be there
That man -eater from  upstairs ,
In her little black number
She’s sure to wear and  get her share
Of caviar , Champaign , canapés before some dumb-fuck
Trips into her lurid snare.
Who knows ; maybe she’d bag a pair .

The middle-class dinner party rules ;
Don’t  slobber, don’t over -sex it  and ,easy on the booze
 Don’t throw up on the kitchen floor
No quick  fuck behind the closet door
Keep your knickers on like mama said
Keep it country till he’s safely in your bed

Popularity contests  with the other guests
Always such agonising tests
Keeping informal scores
Smiling sweetly at those  gruesome bores.
Tinsel talk dazzles from your dash -flash head
Tomorrow they'll be quoting just what you  said


But you know just how to behave
Just keep them guessing , for each’s a knave .
They cant resist your adorable  pert breasts
Just enough décolletage  lest these pests
Loose  interest and veer to the man-eater
Who is incidentally now  with Peter-
Was with Roger just  a minute ago
And next who knows who’se in the throw

Be  so so sweet and fake amazement
With the artist from the basement
He’s got an exhibition coming up
Maybe tease him subtly ; make him sup
From your effervescent  bubbling cup.

And tomorrow  she’ll be bright eyed again ;
In the sack with  the boss ; she's put him in her pen.
This morning in the hall,  a bouquet of flowers
For those few raunchy hours
Which for his remorseful infidelity
He'll pay gladly by  upping considerably her salary

To risk his wife’s blissful serenity
So much worse than an eternity
Of living dangerously , with a death penalty
He'll pay the price of piety
And hush the talk , hopefully
Finally of that company
 Christmas Party



 


© Copyright 2016 donkylemore. All rights reserved.

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