The Oily Smell Of Plastic Spoiled Her Pleasure*

 

Scented, she stood naked before her bed,

perfumed behind the ears,

roll-stick under her arms,

strawberry rinse between her legs.

 

“I’m ready,” she said,

but the limp brute on her bed

with grime on his unshaven face,

three days of sweat festering in his armpits,

the oily smell of plastic all over his skin

and the odor of piss between his legs,

had fallen asleep.

 

‘Just as well,’ she muttered to herself

and lay down on the couch,

her fingers dipped into scented oil.

 

Daniel Kolos

Plymouth, Michigan

June 17, 2004

 

*a line from “The Tomb” by Randall Garrison

in personal pronouns

Cellar Roots

April, 2004, p. 31

Eastern Michingan Student Media