Dónall Dempsey – My Appetite!

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I can still
see them


the merest

your white
lace panties

in a twist
upon a walnut

shiny table top

like a scrunched up

Can’t imagine
how they got there?

all of a sudden

arranging themselves
in laughter

around this
very table

unaware as yet
of your twisted underware

and the tangled tale
that it could tell.

You serve
(always of course the perfect hostess)
our guests

hot whiskey
warming cold hands

the room aromatic with cloves.

Us already
bed warm

our guests just
warming up.

Oh look hot buttered scones!

Fresh from the oven!

Clutching at straws
I snatch
the wispy undergarment

only have time
to put a scone in my hand

your panties
in my mouth.

‘Mmmm! Mmmm! ‘
I mime.

‘Oh look at Donall! ‘
(you are the first to accuse)
‘scoffing scones already! ‘

‘As if he didn’t get enough
last night! ‘

‘What a greedy bastard! ‘
everyone complains.

I hold the hot
uneaten scone
in my palm

it burns
butter drips between my fingertips.

‘Mmmm! ‘ Mmmm! ‘
I affirm.

Everyone commenting on
or confirming

my greediness or appitite.

It being rude
(my mouth full)

I don’t speak
don’t say a word.

Let them think
what they will

Dónall Dempsey



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