- Erotic Poetry
- The Deflowering of Lilly Phelps
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It came one day that Rev. Gray,
lost his bloody mind
underneath the boiling noon,
plow chasing mule's behind.
Caught between God's good ground,
Devil's hammer beating down
"Gee Jenny!" he yelled with parched tongue and soul, pulled around toward town.
The blacksmith's surprise, a gape,
as Grey came grinding by,
guttering up the center of road
with red rimmed vacant eyes;
a crowd followed left and right;
blacksmith joined the throng, praying for the maddened preacher as he steadfast plowed along.
A half a league of furrow lay behind demented Gray
when he stopped afore the tavern,
walked in from hell of day.
He staggered to the rail and croaked,
the barman poured a pint,
and abstinence was only one
of the vows he broke that night.
The congregation was a wailing,
knees down in the dirt
while inside the blacksmith watched him
slake prodigious thirst.
Pint after pint at last he belched,
a new light filled his eyes;
he strode to plow and looked to where
lived chaste Miss Lilly Phelps.
Trapped between God's good grace,
Devil's hammer full and round,
"Gee Jenny." his shout, away to her house
"There's one more furrow to plow."
The blacksmith ran ahead,
town folk trod behind,
Jenny pulled, the preacher pushed
and left behind the town.
Lilly was a peeking out, to see what was the fuss,
shouts of supplication wailed
from an approaching cloud of dust.
The reverend strode into sight,
lost eyes upon her face;
and Lilly felt that god dammed ache
start in her secret place.
Grey picked her up and kissed her,
slammed the door behind,
fumbled off her clothing,
placed her gently on the bed.
"Hi John." is all she said
underneath his lusty gaze,
waiting for the revelation
with her legs spread wide and raised.
Lilly's eye fell down below;
grateful thanks was sent ahigh,
to see the divine instrument,
descending 'tween her thighs;
virginity left her quick
as did each and every thought of
the town folk or the blacksmith
trying to see beyond the shades.
Pinned under God's good man,
Devil's hammer thrusting down,
"Gee John!" she screamed, Gray plowed away,
that hot summer of '39.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 10 years agoNot sure what all the fuss about this is. Seems kind of f'd up. Preacher gets drunk and then goes to have sex with a member of congregation. Even if they were in love and he couldn't get the courage up to go to her. Honestly, ladies out there, I know I wouldn't have wanted my first time to be with someone drunk off his ass, no matter how much I loved him. Just my opinion.
twelveooneover 10 years agouse of language flip-flop between the devil and the devine, good story, good poetics, I assume the long lines are a formatting mistake,
"There's one more furrow to plow."
cracks me up, in '39 it would have been a cliche, and you had the good sense to put it in someone else's mouth.
Angelineover 10 years agoI thought it would be a finalist when I first read it. It's musical and has a wonderful narrative. I think you have a talent for poetry. I don't know what those two really long lines are doing for the poem, but maybe it's a preference thing.
