ryan quinn flanagan | half a tray, at least

Half a Tray, at Least

We lay out
on the bed

She strangles me
into unconsciousness
because she has won
at rock, paper,

When I come to,
she is straddling me
with much

I thought you weren’t coming back,
she says
I thought you were going to leave me here
dealing with eleven o’clock checkout
all on my own.

Then it is my turn.

I take much enjoyment,
I’ll be honest.

Playing god
for $47/ night
is fun.

When she comes to
there is much gagging
and coughing
over the side
of the bed.

It is some minutes
before she realizes that I have
stuffed her cunt
full of ice

She runs off to the bathroom
slamming the door shut
behind her.

She turns on the taps
for privacy.

Then she flushes
and returns.

You bastard, you bastard
I never did nothing to

I play dumb
and she gets angrier.

You stuck ice cubes up my tuna,
admit it!

I finally fess up
and we both laugh.

Laying up in bed
reading the horoscopes,
watching two lions
on the nature channel
go at

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