The Collecters Poem by Dónall Dempsey
The Collecters
She told me she was
an arctophile.
I declined her kind offer
to see her teddy bears someday.
Her husband
(as it turned out)
was a copoclephile
& not only
talked of keyrings
all night
(she was on my left...he was on my right)
but as it happened he happened to have
many amazing examples upon
his person & “...would
I like to see a few...? ”
I thought ('No! ') but politely said: 'Yes! '
Aghhhhh!
stuck between these two
(the soup going cold)
I thought
only of you
& told them
I was a pogophile
a collector of
kisses
& that
I specialised only
in you
& that now if they
would excuse me
I had to go
collect you
& sample
yet another
kiss from your lips
...their stares following me to the door.
What a great put down of those boring two you were stuck between at that party. I'm a pedant but I didn't know what those words meant! I do know that a pog is a kiss in Irish so it was easy to work out your particular fascination. I love the ending and just leaving them there as you go forth to work on your kiss collection! love GinaXXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:12:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I always thought you were a pogophile! A collector of teddybears and keyrings...how you get trapped between those two! I found a quote about you from your performancre at the Room of Abbandon that I thought I'd re-quote if I may. It say and how true it is... 'Donall Dempsey – He calls himself an ancient, hairy, Irish guy. I say he is a writer of gorgeous, bittersweet poems of love and loss and the kink in between.' And so says all of, me! love DeeDee