- Erotic Poetry
- Garden Pimp
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Am I my gardens pimp?
Day after day, I go to my corner with my Hoe's,
Standing tall and sleek, smooth and hard,
one, goes three ways, versatile, sharp cornered, black.
The other, green and new to the whack,
broad and solid and wide, takes to the hard work on her back.
She turns the soil of the dusty street.
We take on opposition; they say no, you cannot seek,
to find your client on this street.
They would stop my cultivation of the John's
that I seek, to please with sleaze and rot, vegetative.
fertilizing the market, as it were.
The fruits of our labor grow the new members of perverse desire.
their bulbous, tuberous, fleshy stalks, afire.
In their lust for our ministrations growing tumescent with
anticipation of their demise from digestion,
huge and red full of juice and seed,
white of head, growing from a green pubic bed,
stalks rising they present themselves with many a knobbed head.
All fostered by the tender care that my Hoe's have worked,
on their dirty beds!
Yes I have too much time on my mind! YUK,YUK!!
