Prowling Through a Whore House
PROWLING THROUGH A WHORE HOUSE
in heat, I prowled
my whore house, scanned
the faces of the ever-willing ones
awaiting for my picking.
I’ve had them all,”
I said. “Have even come for some
of them again and yet again
for want of something new.”
Off to another
whore house then to prowl,
and trawl, then found a plump one,
thin one, and another in between,
paid price for take-home beauties,
“Hah! Monogamy go hang!” I said.
dreamed and hungered for,
the licking, ravishing, caressing
through a dark night, senses-lit
and straight up till late morning,
heavy-lidded, sheets in disarray,
weary, after all assumed positions
still not wanting to let go
first wanton beauty in my arms.
Two more books to go!
Copyright © Miguel Mendoza