THE MONSTER IS MY BUTLER.
It’s so hard to look inside.
Really look inside.
They say once you do you never look back.
Self cleansing.
Thats what they call it.
The monster stops me.
He keeps me busy with lines of coke, beer and fags.
He’s my butler.
When the phone rings he encourages me to answer.
He asks me what they want.
And i reply.
“They want me to dance like a monkey”
He smiles a wholesome grin.
“and will sir obliged”
Said the monster.
My butler.
He knows i will. Cheeky monkey.
Or should i say cheeky monster.
I climb towards him over naked sleeping body’s.
Fodder from the night before.
That smell.
Stale. Deep. Musky smell.
Only one way to make that smell.
We all know these only one way to make that smell.
Names i forget.
But not that smell.
Thats mine to keep.
We made that smell.
Me and the fodder.
The fodder from the night before.
He knows I'm bad.
The monster.
My butler.
Dressed toe to toe in a tux.
He knows my secrets.
Knows I'm bad.
Could stop me anytime.
My butler.
Put me straight.
My butler.
In his tux.
But he’s a monster.
Look him right in the eye.
Wipe the steam from the mirror.
I look good in a tux.
Like 3 Pin it 1
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
This reminds me of Tony O Neil. Have you ever read anything by Tony O Neil, Ryan? You should, he's an author not a poet.
It's unusual for me to get drawn into a poem in such a way....I had to keep reading. Nice write.
- Syd
Thanks Syd. I'll be sure to check out Tony O' Neil. I just looked at his Wikipedia and he's right up my street. I'm sleeping know it's late but will check your work tomorrow.
No problem mate, take your time.
- Syd
Beautiful monsters..we are everywhere. I love this write i look forward to seeing more of your writes!!??