Hookah House - for Jimmy Stark

[billy]

a real blow job so to speak
and tips all over the place

Hookah House

She strolls down to the hookah house
for some cool smoke and hot conversation.
A double toke of oral intimacy
with her friends in the dark cave
of vocal vacuousness and
far flung fantasies.
“Slide me some skin baby,
are you hip?”
The goateed hipster pans,
from nearby, far-off, way off-hand,
in a language separated only by time’s sand.
“He’s a real jingo with the lingo,”
she murmurs to her friends.
“What’s up chic sheik-boy,
what’s your ploy?”
She boldly stabs from behind her
single shot of caffeine.
She feels its bitterness mingle
with his at her rebuff,
sending tingles down her spine
until he pulls the cord on his suicide bomb,
and really blows her mind.


–Erthona


©2014