Gag Reflex

Fried eggs used to gag

me, send me into fits

of dry heaves

and denial, still, I learned

to exorcise that demon

by eating raw ones

in a glass so everyone

could see me choke

down pre-chick amniotic.

now, late at night, trapped

in a dirty motel room,

tits flying in my face,

I ask her to go down

and take what she wants.

”pay up,” she says

and as I dug the going rate from

the pocket of my acid washed jeans, I mumbled,

“lunch is on me.”