Dressed <br />only in short shorts <br /> <br />I struggle <br />with the top of the hot water bottle <br /> <br />(what I originally tightened <br />I can’t for the life of me loosen) <br /> <br />“Bloody hell! ” <br />I grunt & groan & gasp. <br /> <br />Give it <br />one last <br />twist <br /> <br />Muscles tightening <br />with exertion <br /> <br />so much so <br />that <br /> <br />my shorts <br />fall down <br /> <br />and the top comes loose <br />and the water spurts out <br /> <br />as if I were <br />that peeing statue in Brussels. <br /> <br />I look at you looking at me. <br /> <br />“Now that…was a side reaction <br />you didn’t expect to see <br />every day of the night! ” <br /> <br />You nearly wet yourself <br />laughing. <br /> <br />“Guess I now know <br />why it is called a hot <br />water bottle! ” <br /> <br />I cover my modesty <br />with a now floppy hot water bottle.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hot-water-bottle-2/
