The whore bath

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Sometime we must listen, think and make wise decisions. More liars than kind people running our world.

The whore baths.

 Large shining teeth, a large man with a loud voice. Telling me the way to heaven holding whiskey in one hand and the bible in the other. I will find my way to paradise by the gift to his Christian cause.  His teeth seem to shine brighter and smile larger. His mumbling of a thousand words. Leave me feeling dirty and I get a damp cloth and wipe away the words of a greedy man.


 The captain tells me. I own you. You do what I say. Even to death. I’m in-charge. I try to wander away., but he keeps speaking. I feel dirty and go to the latrine. I get a damp cloth. Another whore bath in a life where the words are eating away at my soul.

 I sit in a classroom. The instructor asked me? If I was ordered to kill. Would I? I tell him I would kill him first. But my words become weaker with each second the instructor speaks. He shower me with his blood song and I began to understand. The sweat pours down my face and I go to the bathroom. One more whore bath for a man drowning in useless words. Forced to accept for a few pennies. Beliefs only a mercenary could believe.

  Maybe if I was a high paid whore. I could live with the things I must do. But nothing as bad as a cheap whore.

                     Coyote