Mimi - Mona Poetry: Pink-Polka-Dot Men Laugh

The Gods have fashioned us for love. 

That is our great glory, and it is our great tragedy.

IF YOU ARE FAMILIAR

WITH MONA ARIZONA,

YOU WILL BE FAMILIAR

WITH THE TYPE OF

POETRY SHE SOMETIMES

PUTS TO PAPER.

READER BEWARE,

THIS IS ONE OF THOSE POEMS!

©Pink-Polka-Dot Men Laugh

and pay Zara — they have

poison oak but they want what

the heavy-breasted whore

on The Upper Haight sells.

It’s more than fortunes if you

know the right name when

you call to purchase her

services. Dark stairs lead

men and women to her rooms.

They’re there for her to fuck them

in the back room, away from

the prying eyes and busy nose

of her brother who is visiting.

In the front, she takes money

from widows, women with

no lovers, and sensitive men;

she makes up stories and

tells paying customers lies

based on what she has read

in the news, on the web, on

social media sites they have joined,

and from all she has learned

during her life on the streets.

They believe her. She is quite

convincing with her Tarot cards

and crystal ball on its brass stand.

In the back room, the polka-

dot men drop an easy three

one hundred dollar bills for Zara to

suck their brains out through

their cocks and more C-spots from

each to let them poke her in the

back door, to bring a friend, and

to place her chocolate thighs

on the sides of their heads

and sit on their faces so they

can jam their tongues into

her wide cave and prove

they are man enough to

find the nonexistent nectar

and suck it down. One pushes

her aside and yells “Mama!

Phew! That sure is some damn fine

vulva-aid you got down there!”

She laughs. The pink polka-dot

men laugh and the others pay

to prove they can do it, too.

They put three more Benjamins

on her table so they can

sandwich her between two

of them while she lets the

third drill her mouth.

In the morning, before she

changes the sheets so she

can sleep, Zara counts

her earnings. It’s been a

long night; she’s cold and

she’s hungry, but she smiles.

She would have taken

out her teeth for the third

man, but he didn’t have

an extra fifty for the thrill.

by Mona Arizona

All Rights Reserved