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Poem: Woe From A Whore By Chidi Emmanuel Chinonso


His muscles roar in rigidity as he braces to recede again,

saline atoms of liquid twerk on his face,

the vague light pronounce the dumb lustre of his eyes now wide with worry.

His waist that had been fluctuating gladly a moment ago,

sowing rudely into and outta her nude rendezvous now is unable to withdraw, only penetrate.

Alas! easier it seems to wed a nun than pull his member away from her pool of concupisence.

“Slack, pray thee fair maid, that I might disengage,”

soonest as his weary voice enthuse the above plea;

twin timid protusions pierce her scalp with the ferosity of impromptu rain,

his physique mystically drains of oxygen,

canines become sabre-fangs for her and a beast is born.

She cries,

“fuck as fork, thou art stuck!”

a ghoulish guffaw slithers outta a gnomish throat;

a laugh that defines pregnant and combustible hatred.

And inspite of his clattering teeth plus wet groin,

she kisses him into oblivion.

When life had left,

and he had breathed his last,

her down-below sighs as it releases his previously agitated now flaccid phallus.

There he lies, bearing not a significance any longer,

and never to see the morn of the morrow.

Whatever fare his spirit has to pay fate will teach it a lesson;

a lesson of astute abstinence,

an unforgettable belated lesson.

Hence, she straightens and behold,

after swinging her horned head around;

a man and his manhood frigid as from a fridge.

“Avaunt! Fare thee well, pathetic earthling!”

Her incensed visual terminals hold not remorse,

not pity,

not uncertainty,

just gargantuan accomplishment.

Then she purrs; an autograph of satisfaction.

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