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david badgerow Oct 2011
when leaving a pretty girl
you must go in phases
it will hurt too much
if you rip away like a band aid

when leaving a pretty girl
you must go carefully
because you don't know
when her bare thighs will
beg your eyes
for another glance
or
one last lustful dance

when leaving a pretty girl
you must go directly
before her eyes convince you
of one more long seductive stare

when leaving a pretty girl
she must know you will return
or
her wet lips will long for
someone elses'

when leaving a pretty girl
you must grab time--
stop the marathon--watch her walk
slowly away,
hoping you don't ever have to leave her again.
david badgerow Oct 2011
A recipe
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was half-baked,
but what is edible will say:
something about instructions,
something about parts making a whole,
something about convection,
something about mixing in a bowl,
something about dough
and something about kneading
something about confections,
something about breathing.

An epitaph
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was rotten,
what wasn't will rise and say:
something about a journey,
something about fate,
something about love and
something about hate,
something about laying on a gurney
and something about decay,
something about destiny,
something about history,
then it might yawn
and lay back in its grave

A pamphlet
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some parts were mute,
others that weren't will speak and say:
something about tolerance,
something about abuse,
something about inhalants
and something about a noose.

A brochure
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was fake,
but what is real will last and say:
something about a lawyer,
something about curruption,
something about justice
and how it serves a function,
something about admittance,
something about plastic surgery
and breast reduction,
and a catholic priest mumbling
something about perjury.

A eulogy
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was dead,
but what was alive will stand and say:
something about a life
and something about living,
something about a wife
and something about a thing worth giving,
something about a family
and something about foes;
something about winning
and something about woes.

A book
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was filth;
but what was clean will shine and say:
something about character,
something about freedom,
something about development
and something about respect
something about supplement,
something about unity,
something about revolution
and how I think the world should be.

A song
I wrote one of those in my head today;
but it was a bird and it flew away,
If all that's left is just one dying wing
it would flap around
on the ground
and try to sing:
something in near-pefect pitch
something bluesy and
about a *****;
then probably something about flight
and finally something about a
bright white light.

A poem
I wrote one of those in my head today;
the lines were seeds
I planted before the cold;
some froze out, some took hold
but what remains grows bold and will say:
something about a heart,
and how you had it from the start;
something about sunlight,
and how you make it seem less bright;
something about the wet wet rain
something about willingness
and something about refrain.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I know a girl who's not very nice
I know a girl who'll hold your ****
in a vice and
I know a girl who will stay out all night.

I know a girl who won't fly a kite
I know a girl who does things
out of spite and
I know a girl who won't look good in white.

I know a girl who's repulsed by splendor
I know a girl who returns love letters
to senders and
I know a girl who's a terrible pretender.

I know a girl who won't laugh at my jokes
I know a girl who made it all
one big hoax and
I know a girl and I hope she chokes.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I wasted my words
I wasted your ears
I wasted my time
learning all your likes and fears

I've wasted some sunrises
and
I've wasted some sunsets
and
If I could drink them
I'd get wasted
on my own regrets

I wasted your soft skin
you wasted my touch
but I guess to you
it doesn't matter too much

Because you're on
to the next one,
and I'm left right here
thinking thoughts full of sorrow
and sharing them with my beer

I wasted your glistening body
I wasted your ***
In my head I was wasted
about the future,
like a house with a yard
and just two pets.

I wasted your lips
you wasted your lies
but I don't wish you harm
or hope that
anyone in your family
dies

No, if I find a wishbone
this one thing I'll truly wish
that the next guy you ****
has something
very itchy
on his ****.
david badgerow Oct 2011
Are you clean?
I mean,
do you shave?

Please say
you don't consider
me too brave,
but is your ***** hair
trimmed
into the ace of spades?

Are you hygenic?
or
would I need to see
a clinic
in the morning?

Are you boring?

Do you have a habit
of snoring?

Are you allergic to chlorine?
If not,
let's take a skinny dip
Oh, and do you like
it
with chains and whips?

Are you a biter or
a leg-clencher?
Do you moan or do you whimper?
Have you been
with more losers or winners?

Which are you more afraid of
heights or snakes?
Which do you ride more on
bikes or lakes?
Which do you soar more on
blunts or planes?

Also, is anyone in your family criminally insane?

Please
tell me now if
you want me
to stop this
or
instead let me ask you
is it nice
when you're *******?

Tell me now and tell me this:
what makes you frustrated
and
what gets you ******?

Tell me also
what you hope for
and all that you hold dear
so that both of us can spare
each other
a tumultuous year.
david badgerow Oct 2011
she looked like a hipster
with lips
begging me to kiss her
so I
slipped her a dipster
but that
******* her sister
so I
let down my zipper
and dropped
a real McShitster
but then
she asked me to fist her
while I
was ******* her sister
but at
glance I noticed
a blister
so I
ran off and
ditched her
david badgerow Oct 2011
hold your tongue
until
you're soaked in saliva

hold your breath
until
you can't get much higher

hold my beer
until
I finish with your kiss

hold my hand
until
it can't get better,
this is bliss.

hold your liqour
until
you're puking into a plush beige carpet

and I will

hold your hair so
you don't look like a cheap harlot
or some trashed starlet.
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