The Whole Thing Over With
From her side of the bed
the wife suggests he get dressed,
go out in the night and
purchase a piece. She's
not in the mood. Or
if he must, he can
go ahead, stick it in,
shoot it off, and get
the whole thing over with.
She doesn't care any more
where he pours it
so long as he's quiet
and doesn't wake the kids.
Too tired to dress,
he sticks it in, explodes,
rolls off, finally spent.
Maybe now the beasts
that will never creep
within his crosshairs
can get some sleep.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Added by Poetry Lover
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