Door To Door by John D Robinson



I was positive that
I’d seen her around,
she was easily a
couple of decades
older than my 22 years
and I had her gently
pinned against a
cold concrete wall,
our mouths meeting
in clumsy painful
drunken attempts
at kissing and as my
hands snaked inside
her leather jacket and
beneath her thin white
blouse, she abruptly
pulled away and said
‘My husband is
looking at us! He can
see us!’
‘What!’ I said
‘I’ve got to go’ she said
and she did and I
watched her as she
walked just a few dozen
yards away where a
fat shouting guy was
waiting for her and then
she disappeared into
a house,
and it was then that I
realized that she was my
next door neighbour.

C_UsersJohnPicturesJohn-D-RJohn D Robinson was born in 63 in the UK; his poems have appeared widely in the small press and online literary journals including; Rusty Truck; Red Fez; Hobo Camp Review; Rats Ass Review; Down In The Dirt; Yellow Mama; Outsider Poetry; Chicago Record; Horror Sleaze and Trash; BoySlut; In Between Hangovers; He is a contributing poet to the 2016, 48th Street Press Broadside Series.

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