I was looking for love when…

She reared back her ugly head
and said,
“Do you not desire a kiss
from my sour milk mouth?
Or perhaps you would like something
a little further south.”
When I figured of what she spoke,
I realized to her it was no joke.
Neither was I laughing,
and I almost threw up
when I thought of being her king.
Vile bile rose to my throat
as venom dripped from her teeth.
She held out scab crusted hand.
“Come, drink my rancid wine,
eat my spoiled meat.”
I took her hand,
put my lips to hers,
and in an obscene way made sure
that she would always be mine.
I looked into her horrid face,
placed my head upon her sagging breast.
Oh, such a strange place to find rest
from my quest of love.
I was looking for love when…

I met my luscious succubus.

christopher…. ‘88

I wrote this poem when I was still a pup. I know I thought I was clever because I knew what a succubus was. Nearly 20 years on, I don’t hate it, but it reads like what it is. Sorry I shared.