Bloody Women & Their Damp-Cloths by Paul Tristram

He turned the left, bottom corner
out of Little Hell,
a-scratching at his manky, putrid crotch
and a-cursing to himself
in quite an agitated state
“Bloody women & their damp-cloths!
If it weren’t for all that malarkey
I’d have been home ‘Banging Her Bones’
like I do the other 3 weeks of the month.
I’m still fond of her, see…
Thruppence is thruppence, I know…
but, I was desperate, I’m only human.
It was the fourth day in…
and still no sign of a clear coast.
Steep at that price…
and the thieving swine
had my pocket kerchief away
whilst I was busy knee-trembling her
up against the back of the butchers.
And now I’m pissing pus & stingy nettles
until I’m absolutely sick of it!”
Someone shouted “Heads!” above him.
“Christ Alive… piss & shit
on top of it all now, literally.
Lady Luck’s having herself a right tin bath
at my expense, she never was a friend of mine!”
He yelled up to the darkening heavens
as he crossed the muddy road
and threw himself into the marble fountain.

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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