DON'T ASK | By: Terry Collett | | Category: Poem - Life Bookmark and Share


Going underground and
Bill having the look in his
Eyes as he began dressing
Having fucked the young
Guy who lay spread lazily
On the bed smoking and
Saying what’s it like killing
Some one? And Bill eyeing
The youth said you don’t
Want to know go on living
And boozing and playing
Your games and the youth
Inhaled deeply and studied
Bill pulling on his pants
Thinking to himself the old
Guy sure knows how to dice
Some fun and yet not believing
The hands zipping up black pants
Could kill yet something about
The eyes and the way they stared
The dark empty chambers that
Seemed to lie there do you want
Another drink? Bill asked pouring
Himself a shot watching the youth
Spread so naked there sure why not
Said the youth and watched as Bill
Poured another glass and said who’d
You kill last? Bill sighed and handed
The youth the glass and said if I told
You that it would have to be you and
The youth wanted to smile but the
Gaze in Bill’s eyes froze him cold and
Thought to himself sipping the booze
Glad he kept quiet glad I wasn’t told.

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