Pretty Britney

Pretty Britney

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Summary

This is a poem based on the party culture of a drunken youth, and the supposed "good times" that turned insidiously rotten...

Summary

This is a poem based on the party culture of a drunken youth, and the supposed "good times" that turned insidiously rotten...

Content

Submitted: November 13, 2010

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Content

Submitted: November 13, 2010

A A A

A A A


Pretty Britney

Pretty Britney, pinned against a brick wall in a damp basement packed with sweating bodies bathed in flowered perfumes,
Deaf in a hot room blasting noise, thumping an endless tribal beat
She speaks with a guttural struggle against the weight of the alcohol
that numbs her into submission, into the arms of a man
with a popped pink collar who stinks of cologne and ten dollar vodka
His hands rub ceaselessly against her waist, down to her thighs in desperate furtive strokes like the twitching limbs of a dying small animal
In the corner lit only by moments of blinding green and pink light,
a girl retches violently into a trashcan as
her companion, a smiling, clean-shaven young man
with black eyes,
black hair
and a black suit,
reassuringly holds her hair back in a gentle way before leaning in every few minutes
to sniff it lustily…
Within hours her sickness will pass and he’ll be naked clenching strands of it to his face;
He’d drink her blood in a heartbeat to quench his thirst
Three too-thin girls dance feverishly in the midst of the throng
thrust their vulvas heavily into the welcoming groins of a line of oiled men
in workshirts and ties, emitting primal grunts and slamming fists
The girls’ eyes meet and are pulled apart like magnets,
workers in a sex factory forced arm in arm, exposed
A corpulent frat boy stands voyeur, furtively sipping from a plastic cup
his eyes sallow fleshy wells, he dreams of taking one upstairs
and throwing her upon the bed
His Brothers will hold her down and spoon her grain ethanol while he enters her
like a rutting pig
In Britney’s swimming mind, she feels the hardness of the man groping her
like a steel column
ripping through the undergrowth of some
fertile river valley
Her friends vanished, she is past the point of forming memories,
She feels so tired, so
she gives into his hardness like so many slices of peach
before a knife


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