Suck – PW Covington

Header Credit: Carlos Perez Del Moro

his clear green eyes darted
side to side as I filled his mouth
thinking of his wife’s tight and sweet
cunny of flesh in Premont

IED reflux and border patrol check-point
questions answered with apologies unspoken
seatbelts fastened and secured
Nebraska’s under water this morning
so I hear

Father Franklin tower I remember
that basement in Roswell
pulling engines off of airliners in the daytime
orange glow from Artesia oilfields mark horizons
at night

how do we get there
she always knew exactly when to leave
when drinks would turn to darker things
as reptile passions satiated lust
and he’d go down before me
on his knees

About the contributor: PW Covington’s writing captures the grit, promise, and desperation of the North American highway. His writing and performance has been featured from San Francisco’s Beat Museum to the Havana International Poetry Festival (Cuba). Covington lives two blocks off of Historic Route 66, in Northern New Mexico. His latest book is a collection of flash fiction and erotica titled :North beach and Other Stories (Hercules Publishishing).