What He Doesn'T Know Won'T Hurt Him Either - Poem by Ted Sheridan
Blurred by too much rum and too little cola.
His eyes roll out the red carpet onto his cheeks
just beyond the reach of his dehydrated tongue; hours
of cunnilingus had left him thirstier than a dried
up well in Ethiopia; Sore between the ears
he struggles to make his thoughts coherent
keys the front door and enters the kitchen
where he pours
another hair of the beast that ate his brain.
Returning from the scene of his latest crime
he looks at her lying there asleep in their bed,
with her bare breast exposed and looking
every bit as good as she did the day he married her.
Realizing....what a fool he's been, he gently strokes
her hair from her sleepy eyes and whispers
his promise to never again stray...
She silently purrs....at the scent of fresh fish on his breath...
2008 © T Sheridan
Comments about What He Doesn'T Know Won'T Hurt Him Either by Ted Sheridan
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You