LAZY FUCK SCORES BIG
there he was -
slouched on the couch;
over-indulged in all the graphics
with small press literary erotic journals,
found while cleaning out the attic.
those mental massages began
to hang picture after picture
upon the living room walls.
the pages inside cover to cover,
was like a cup of coffee
that left faint swirls of steam
in the air - only to disappear,
yet still very hot.
after all, memory like a camcorder
busy on a tri-pod in all the footage,
stimulated the stir of perversed hormones.
time to time - a little hard core
came across the lense -
so direct and crystal clear,
that 900 numbers left voices
concentrated in moans
without ever moving from the couch.
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