Derrick Thompson


Cleaning Up His Mess - Poem by Derrick Thompson

His deep voice beckoned my back to my room
To complete a task I had done before.
But now I was to clean up his mess
As if wiping up his spilled milk.

The warm air filled of musk
I was directed to the fold.
The creamy liquid coating folds I knew well
His large hand, palming my head like a basketball,
Pushed me in to clean his mess.

The briny taste filling my mouth and scortching my throat.
I worked until he was satisfied.
But my labors gave her none of the old pleasure
And the walled echoed with their mocking laugh.


Poet's Notes about The Poem

A continuation of the evening in Havana.

Comments about Cleaning Up His Mess by Derrick Thompson

  • Rookie - 45 Points Mary Amrutha (11/25/2013 8:08:00 AM)

    nice work............................ (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Freshman - 668 Points Saint Cynosure (11/19/2013 6:26:00 AM)

    WOW...like this a lot... (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 95 Points Masereka Amos (11/7/2013 3:48:00 AM)

    Cleaning Up His Mess, i like it, its emotional (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »



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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 7, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, November 7, 2013


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