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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Table for Three

The table was laid,
The couple took its seats,
and when push came to shove-
vanity won and he called it quits.

Bereft, she too abandoned,
but was greatly astounded-
could barely keep it knit,
she was torn to bits.

Along came a suave fellow,
young, wild but respectable,
dedicated to lure her back to the table,
and make her blue world a tad yellow.

She prepped and packed her bags,
carried her baggage along for their date,
stirring their date with the wrong recipe - tempting fate-
things turned sour when the cat was dragged out the bag.

They were at it feasting on desert,
spooning the cream and eating tart.
It was orgasmic satisfaction till reality set in,
the door bell clinked and third wheel walked in...

Hand holding a wood like spatula charging to kill,
someone had to eat the dirt for enjoying his thrill,
she was baffled as she watched them scuffle,
the table was flipped off its feet amid the tussle.

He struck hard with the spatula,
then swung fast with a left jab,
then he bear hugged like a night dub-
he was knocked out but didn't spill blood...

She dashed past them and into the night,
the fight clocked out they had to cooperate-
to from a search party, it was only right...
for they started it, they reeled in the bate.

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