Paul Tanner

one roof

it was the dead of night,
it was the death of a lot of things

and I was walking to the kitchen 
for water or wine, whatever that christ cunt had left us,
when I passed her son’s bedroom:

I heard a slap and a moan.
then the creaking and panting started …

there was a crack in the door. 
you know damn well I had a peek:

there he was 
fucking his girlfriend doggy on the bed. 
and damn if he didn’t look like his mum:
same full lips and big grey eyes
framed around a dirty blonde bob.  
it was like a flat-chested version of her 
going at some chick’s rump with a strap-on. 

no, you dirty bastards
I didn’t invite myself in.
I didn’t even stay to watch. 

I simply went back to bed 
and slipped it in his mum:

oof, she woke up. what’s got into you?
happy families, I told her.

and I hear she has a daughter somewhere, too.

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