My Endeavors To Pleasure Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If something I have done,
Had been to satisfy my own pleasure...
The doing of it,
I would never consider to expose.
My endeavors to pleasure,
With those efforts to exchange...
I like to keep believed are condoned,
To the private confines of my own home.

'Why did your neighbors call the police? '

Someone believed,
Your screams heard...
Were calls for help.

'I told you to close the windows.
But 'no'.
You wanted to prove to me,
No one would be paying us any attention.
I overheard what you said to the policeman,
About satisfying your own pleasure...
To the private confines of your own home.
What did he say? '

Nothing.
When I opened the door,
And he thought I appeared exhausted...
He put his gun back into his holster.
Then he winked to whisper,
To keep the noise down.

'I told you to close the windows.
But 'no'.
You wanted to prove to me,
No one would be paying us any attention.
Now I believe you left them opened on purpose.
To disturb someone,
With an intention to have them listen.'

Now why would I do something 'childish' like that?

'Well you did tell me,
It had been a long time since you had company.
Now I know you weren't lieing.'

And I didn't think you'd be screaming like that either.