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Click hereat 2am-
according to the green glow
across the room-
i reach for the Papermate ballpoint,
a trusted utensil of proper
punishment and pleasure.
your thick binding
struggles against my fingers,
only a little,
just a pretense of reluctance
that fades faster
than my inspiration,
with any luck.
i etch my evil
in black scribbles
on your formerly pure surface.
a fevered rush of
tangled lines,
newborn metaphors,
and half-stanzas erupt.
this is my orgasm for tonight,
and it feels better
than the other kind,
usually,
because you don't mind
being hatefucked,
or tender novella lovemaking.
your only concern
is that i stay
within the margins
and close your cover when i'm done.
'Oh, and all those creative urges which tickle and tackle you at day and at night (and that humor too), those I shall call sublimations', said the professor and rested from his work.
you could lose the line "with any luck".
There are a few other places you have a few extra words and it draws away from the poem that is strong work.
I thought I had read you before, I guess not. Been missing out!
good work
m
though I think it is a little uneven in parts. Some of the line breaks seem to make the poem read in a very choppy fashion (S3 in particular) and I am never a fan of lack of capitalization, though that's merely a stylistic quibble. The close is quite good, I think. Good job.