Beef Injection

BEEF INJECTION

By JCSTREET © 2004

Was my beef injection an
inflection
point for you in
our affair will you
dare to give me house room?

When I
kissed your cooze did you
snooze contentedly
after writhing, crying out, invoking
your Gods?

When we fuck do you
duck
your responsibilities
on the theory that
getting laid should
not be delayed the
dishes can be done anytime?

When we suck is it
just luck that the
earth moves or
are we in Cali, Sally?

Does each embrace
taste
better than the last or
is the past yet
present in the here?

When we kiss do you
miss
the kiss
you had last summer, are you
glummer
when you remember
last September, hmm!

Bummer!

Do you feel
alive
when we swive or
does familiarity
breed hilarity

Does it
rock your sox to be
cuffed and locked
to a punishment box or
may I surmise
your sighs
to be rising disdain
for the pain that you feel when you
kneel when you
squeal as the tawse
lashes your lissome thighs your
little white panties round your knees do you

squeeze them together at the
kiss of leather or does it merely
resemble
the kiss of a feather why then
do you tremble

are you wet when you get
another hissing kiss to your dis-
tal region is your
pleasure legion when measured
against other treasures you have
leisured over

in the clover when you were taken again
leaning over
the smooth rocks of the high country

are you haughty when
you think
you can be naughty with impunity its
lunacy
to expect immunity from pain
when you fail to pay attention and
did I mention this invention
has damped many a winsome
lass who thought her ass
sacrosanct
from hissing strap it’s a trap
to so surmise it
gives rise
to reddening eyes and well-wealed bottom to
tear-filled eyes and sobbing sighs
at the lies with which you’ve self-beguiled it
makes me smile to

hear your hubris just as
beauty blushes by your pubis first
pink then red then purpler than
nasturtiums darker than
dandelions fruitier than
bruited ruthlessness but

come my dear need have no fear now
Daddy’s here to heal
the drear’ sob the
tear that just hovers on the lid
amid
a rising heat
you feel quite meet
as your reward for
knuckling under, your intimates
asunder

your bottom
may yet pain but Lidocaine®
that friendly nostrum
will help restore you to your rostrum
beside me in our bower athwart me
in our shower rolling

in that field of flowers you loved so much
that I wrought it from the Dutch
voertrekker who had bought it
even as I sought it he was

lately of the Cape where his
winsome grapes had been
commandeered by those he jeered
in former times when Botha’s writ
ran wider than a sea
of anenomes

and broader than the sword he
pointed toward
his own heart, inadvertently
of course

so

you see that thee and me
are creatures on a wider stage than
first apprehended—soonest bended soonest mended is
my just response to your tonsilly
murmurs of injustice a
flogging in time saves nine as my
wealthy patron once dictated to his scribe in
his “Precepts for Serfs” admonitions
September 1969, at Lord’s Island Lake
Memphremagog, Quebec—a mere jaunt
From Beebe, Vermont but

are we rambling I’m gambling not, philosophy
is polyglot in its free-ranging quest
for the jest ironic

Kingston, Ontario June 19 2004

(dedicated to the late Sir Roswell, Edward of Gibraltar and Admiral of the High Seas in and around Lord’s Island and Sergeant’s Bay (1925-2003), my wealthy
patron and feudal Lord)