I sensually rub pickles
on your torso.
My lust for you
is like black coffee.
Really strong with an after effect of diarrhea
I am jittery for you my dear
Let me rub this yo-yo all over your ear.
A thief broke into my house
and saw a naked grandma
so he left.
I see a large, muscular men
He is strong, like hen.
Look at your chin.
He comes up to me.
"what's up good lookin?"
I romantically gaze in his eyes.
"get away from me, you creep, this is a library."
The man pants heavily, with his bulge in his right hand.
He steals my little brother and does the magic dance.
All of a sudden, it consumes me.
The bulge is life.
I am the bulge.
The bulge is the labyrinth.
We are the bulge.
David Bulge Bowie.
Salty with a tang
My Great Aunt Nita’s little gift
To make us happy…
I worry like a mother about her child
She’s gone again
Dead to the world
No matter how much shaking and calling I do
Another breaded miracle in my mouth
Momentary bliss, a high
Then the crash
Fried pickles distract, but
Once reality returns
I’m still worried
She’s still gone
One time within thee grass
I bent to wipe my ass
And where the paper thou?
For this I shall not know.
I sat in much despair
My muddy pubic hair
Drenched in a mud of brown
My whole world upside down.
Across the field I call
A fair maiden and where all
The grass spread like ROM
This maiden was my mom.
Alas! I called to three
A motherly lady
Who gave me parchment for the anus
I thank thee maiden, For not wiping is heinous.
You are like sweet pickles.
I prefer dill,
Always have and always will
And your taste will never be enough.
But I choose you
Because you are the
Only thing on the table
That looks familiar.
Your skin is just as
Pleasing as a dill pickle,
But this little similarity will only
Sour my smile,
And my disappointment in your taste
Will become quite apparent
As it echoes through the tunnels and channels of my
Lips and eyes.
But I’ve passed up cheeses
And wines for you
(The cheeses are unfamiliar,
Smelly, and fattening; the
Wines turn me red
Yes, I have chosen you.
I hope your eyes dilate at that
And the growing and enveloping blackness
Takes over your vision and your will,
Rendering me invisible
But twice as lovely and
Four times as dangerous.
With you blinded now, sweet pickles,
Let me tie you up in my fingers
And kill you.
pull my finger girl
pull my finger.
hey girl, pull my finger.
Hey girl, you like farts?
pull my finger.
I am the small woman sitting aross from you in the red dress.
Come here are pull my finger.
I see you there, sitting across me.
Are I's meat.
Stop praying to Jesus, what is this a church?
Oh wait it is.
I'm not here to pick up chicks, I'm only here cause I got invited.
Come here, I will fart for you.
She oft praises the strokes of my pen
Yet when her image comes into mind
The words in my head run thin
And my ink runs prematurely dry
I have not written a thing worth mentioning
For the girl with the cute button nose
The hand clasped ‘round my pen begins fidgeting
As my mind remembers her toes
I stare blankly at pages of paper
When my mind’s eye conjures her smile
My cerebral wells start to taper
Though my love for her flows as the Nile
The beauty of her body is not justified in text
So I will spare you the reading: her beauty is best