The Taylor

(Originally published by Horror Sleaze Trash)

I once thought I was in love with a whore

she was married and fed me a buffet of lies

tales of a separation and divorce

I was a slave to the cunt

a slave to that cunt

many times stuck by the phone

waiting on her call

only to be let down



a beefcake turned into a cupcake

without a ringing call

this time was to be different

we set up a meeting at the Taylor Motel

a lowlife

low down motel

low on the totem pole of said establishments

I had a few pre-rolls of weed ready

and picked up a twelve pack of

some kind of beer

she said she’d call at ten

I got to the Taylor at nine

ready to get the fuckfest started

I got the key


and headed toward the room

just before I reached the door

an old


wrinkled crackhead

with glasses and no bra 

asked if I needed help with the beer

I politely told her no

that I was waiting on someone

as I entered into the disheveled fuck shack

I cracked open a few cans in preparation 

and waited

and waited

and waited

that fucking bitch

that fucking bitch did it again

and that’s when I regretted

not sharing my beer

with the braless