The Old Harlot Poem by Simbarashe Raymond Mudukuti

I open the tavern door wild and wide open
As I'm staggering to keep balance on my drunk feet
Hell no will I let anybody try any mockery on how drunk I am
The party we were at was the devil's dungeon
Initially I went just to take my life stress on free booze
We are ladies and truth be said on this I feel entitled
I'm pretty or was whatever the case they will not make fun of me
The younger broke ones obviously
Before this thought even finished a retort comes twisting its way through my nerves
How dare they don't respect my thoughts
The guts to retort me before I even finish thinking
Immediately anger bursts out of me
Followed by a couple of vagabond vulgar, it's raw
They scatter their apologies like mice as I try to explain to the next person why I did so
The explanation does finish before melting into the reason why I'm drunk
The story never finishes before he says lets drink to that
The drink is nice but I know I've had too many for the night
But without hesitation I grab the liquor bottle by the neck as it guzzles its way through my neck
He is saying lets go and go we should
His persuasive well-rehearsed words work their way down my pants
Without realization and with trying to hide behind the "I'm in pain and need a pain relief excuse"
We walk lackadaisically to his car as if we came together in the first place
As I get in I realize I have a story to tell
That day!