#Poetry: Tea And Blood

He drank from the mug

Prepared him by their maid

He wished she was his…

His view of her ended

As she left the door behind her.

He would not stop thinking

Of how she would give him

More and new children

Better in beauty and character

Than the gang of scoundrels

His “till death do us part” gave him.

… He could trade them,

He can trade them

For that hour-glass figured,

Dark, plump, graceful

And gorgeous Puerto-Rican,

Not that ugly blonde, ungrateful

Descendant of the queen….

Suddenly He felt pain

Resembling a mixture of marital regrets

And a cut from his lower lip.

Tasted like Tea and Blood.