- Erotic Poetry
- Death Pisses
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Ever since my wife died
I go to the cemetery on Sunday afternoons
Not to see my wife, the whore is underground in worse condition
than when I saw her last
I'm not religious
The widows see me crying in front of the headstone
They figure I'm a good catch
Invite me home to feed me
The first room they show me is the bedroom
I've figured out that means they get horny after dinner
It's usually a fuck or a blow job, but this weekend was different
This broad was better looking than most
Insisted I fuck her on the ground over her husband's grave
Just lifted her skirt. No panties, she must have planned the whole thing
Afterward, she wiped herself with a few kleenexes
"My husband was never faithful."
I nodded knowingly, "Excuse me, but I have to pee."
"Piss on that son of a bitch,"
So I did,
I'm supposed to see her again next Sunday.
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