[Act One: Scene Two]
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“Hotel Fuck,” a cheap little poem by Mr. J. Happy
And the haze lifts, her bare hip
Shifts, watch it go: so far, far;
Away with him. Send for snacks,
Open the mini-bar—tiny happy gifts,
Hey! Watch out! Attack!
Sex is a weapon, a loaded gun,
All too much, too much fun;
Games in secret—don’t let on,
That you know, you know?
When the dawn breaks, her wet
Hair shakes, all over you, it’s all—
All set! Are you awake? Can you
Get up. Let’s fall—fall apart;
Sex is a weapon, a sharpened blade,
So little escape, so little to gain;
Let’s just hope—mark the grave,
Make the grade, here lies our Son:
Alone, he left us. So much pain.
What’s that? A meaning? Oh,
No, it’s just the maid, please turn—
Turn it down, honey. Quick! To the
Shower, we can cram in another…
Love is made, watch out! It burns.
Sex is an extension of our selves,
How do you rate?
Bill paid: one-oh-one-six-eight.
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