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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Blonde in the Red Leather Booth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I was sitting in Katz Delicatessen<br>waiting for Sam to arrive, <br>when this blonde with her date<br>made their entrance.<br>They took seats in a booth on the side.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You know I'm not given to gossip<br>but I couldn't not hear if I tried.<br>They were speaking of sexual matters, <br>all about faked orgasms and lies.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The Blonde started bucking and shaking, <br>moving her head side to side.<br>She muttered God's name in her frenzy, <br>pretending her Lovers inside.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420197" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The booth smelled of sex and red leather<br>The Petite-Mort faked with great pride.<br>I muttered' I'll have what she's having.'<br>to the waitress who stood by my side.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a></strong></div>

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