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Click hereI.
I wouldn't call you selfish
you don't sell fish
though you remind me
of a piranha
In a small tank
stalking
II.
There was a girl who came from Argentina
She pointedly informed me
That she was really very Italian
I didn't give a fuck
about her nationality
she was as HUMAN
as two beautiful
eyes and breasts
and hips and hands and feet
could ever be
sloped neck
A-Train
to the headlights
sweet breath
of breast
pleasing my
caveman hardness
.................................................that rules my moments with little regard for mind or matter
Argentina
what a dream
ya know
if she would have stuck with that
I'd be watching her hips jump
right now
III.
I parked my mind
In Argentina's pants
and sucked out
the last drop
until she passed out
Fucked the Italian
right out of her
told her Latinos
make me hot
I didn't win a prize
I was done before the explosion
I know you don't like to read that
to hear that, or have it happen to you
but it's the fucking truth sometimes
besides......you tell me why my poems
should ever lie
.................................................Don't give me that shit about your morals
IV.
She's got dinosaurs
in her closet
I road one
in a dream
Right into her madness
where the sweet sauce
painted my face
I wouldn't want to see her again
Fuck that, now I'm lying
I'd love to see her one more time
though I don't know
what time that would be
'cause right now
I'm thinking about the girl
on the train
I'm no pig you fool
I'm alive and I can give it up
because I know I'm alive
that doesn't make any sense
to you over there
dying a little more
each day
Go ahead suck it up
think enough of yourself
to make her moan
ride her like you mean it
slow, then faster to a steady rhythm
until it's time for wild
where you lose all control
and feel the power of
her heaven
contracting
..................................................... Instead of living out your death before it comes.
V.
I took this creative writing class
'cause I was feeling inspired
The teacher was hot
no screw that
she was smoking hot
She told us to sit down
and write anything
we wanted to write
I followed her instructions
I wrote an eight page poem about
wanting to fuck her and disguised
it as crazed lust
she looked at me the next night
I read her eyes they told the story
she was too confused to speak
I watched her teach
and thought about High School
Yeah, Mrs. Mendonhall
who taught me things
about frogs and worms
and
lots of masturbation
.................................................See when my mind drifts
do you see what happens
I can think about breasts
while I learn about
punctuating my pelvis
between her sweet
honey painted thighs
............................................I think I could have her
I only say that because
I got an---- A
in her class
while thinking
about her ass
She penned a bullshit note on
my poem praising my guts
and ability for free _expression
she couldn't tell me
she needed to get laid
I wanted the same thing
but we can't give in all the time
or I would have no time
to write this
I saw her last week
she wanted to know
how I was doing
with my poetry
getting published
I told her
my best poem
was written
on her face
her blush
was so rewarding
but the guilt
from the power
left me feeling empty.
VI.
I like it
when THE ANIMAL
comes alive
I won't deny it
why should I
then I'd be like you
hiding behind
your true desires
I live and breathe passion
sometimes passion turns into
Fuck Me Please
should that upset me
I chase fires
dive in
and then extinguish them
with my tongue
VII.
When the wolf calls I go to him
I shouldn't try to fight him off
he wins every fucking time
I had to learn how to like him
enough to give me my time too
This is no paradise here
well, at least not at the moment
Argentina's In Italy
Mrs. Mendonhall's too old
I already had the Writing Teacher
here I sit waiting on a wolf.
ajs
I want you wolfman. After reading this I need to find my buzz tool and dream about you in ecstacy. (((kisses))
Jen
I've got the attention spam of a goldfish usually, but you kept me alert and sucking up every word thru this lengthy piece. Tempo, attitude and dry wit in a well balanced mix.