A Christmas Story

It was a lonely Christmas,
but I wasn’t alone,
at the Dead Hooker Motel.

It was somewhere south of Pico,
where the city of Los Angeles
stopped giving a shit
about naming streets anymore
and just gave them all numbers.

My pussy was poppered up
and trembling like a shitting dog.
I heard the desk clerk say “damn, bitch”
as he used his key to open the door,
Then he fucked me too.

The walls were stained,
The mattress creaked,
We humped and pumped
in a heated frenzy;
and when I left, I leaked.


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