Listening To ‘Supershit 666’ With Her Mouthful by Paul Tristram

For fuck sake, mate! Whatever you do,
don’t let her listen to ‘Supershit 666’
whilst she’s sucking your cock.
Just trust me on this, will you,
seriously, her rhythm gets all erratic,
disturbing and downright dangerous.
And the edges where those three teeth
are missing are jagged and razor sharp
when she’s unfocused and throat-lunging.
She switched to wanking, last weekend,
to light up a fucking cigarette
halfway through doing Jay for that £10 bag
and almost forgot that she was still smoking
when ducking back down to work.
The stench of burning pubic hair was revolting,
frightened the dogs and everything,
the six of us had to fuck-off outside
the caravan for a breath of fresh air, innit.
She’s alright with ‘Discharge’ or ‘GBH’
on the stereo… it’s just that fucking ‘Band’
that sets her off and blinds her senses.
I tend to just let her listen to Radio 4,
a bit of ‘Poetry’ or a nice little dialogue about
‘How To Get The Best From Your Allotment’
whenever I’m fucking banging her, yeah!

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!

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