The things I write for free food
My body is a temple.
That makes you the priest.
Pray at my altar,
And the goddess will let you feat.
Let's play a game called Pop goes the weasel You're **** so big, It prolly runs on diesel.
I'm no vegetarian,
All meat diet.
There's dessert beneath my skirt,
Maybe you should try it.
In the middle of the desert,
Between my legs is an oasis.
You don't have to be thirsty,
To make the trek to taste this.
My dying wish is that my mom will never see What I had to write in poetry
To get a starbucks card for free.

Stunt ****

He can be your lover lady,  ima be your stunt ****. He can be your boyfriend mommy, ima be your stunt ****. He can be your husband ****, ima be your stunt ****, stunt **** fluid swap, yep when them ******* drop. Lights, camera, action ,I’m your stunt ****, stunt ****. Lights camera, action, I’m your stunt ****, stunt ****. Ima be your stunt **** girl and beat it up, yep ima beat it up, that man there can eat it up. We don’t need no scrip for this act or no monolog, you can adlib, improvise on my microphone. We can do the box spring boogie all night long, we can get *****, coz play like its Comic Con. Tag your girlfriend in, we can do a menajahtwa , pile drive that nannie, Macho Man Wrestle Mania. Petting that *****, Doctor Claw, go go gadget pennies, working your equation ,*** notation like a mad genius. If I nut prematurely , don’t you worry I got ******, it’s not superman, but stuntman with all the stamina, Ima beat it up like Van Dam   at the Comitia ,finger, lick and kiss each other while I *******. It’s ocean spray ,whale watching like in Monterrey.

Dat ***** Though

Hey girl, I see you at da club, shaking dat *****
And all I can think about is how that *** would soothe me.
You lookin' so fresh like celery.  Baby, why don't you
come over here and put a bell on me?
I'll be your cat, rub my nose in your lap,
and you can be my doggy.  We can do it in style, for a while.
Then jump in the shower, so you can wash me with your lotions
Rub your magic all over me like your hands are made of potions.
Then let's jump back in bed and keep our bodies in motion.
Girl, you fine like China, like Flo from Mel's diner.
You hotter than Tabasco, and I know you think I'm whacko,
But you got a ***** that makes me crazy.
I want you to haze me, daze me,
and if you say no, it probably won't phase me.
I'll just write poetry about you and me
as if it were real because nothin' gonna stop the way I feel.

Le ***** Quest

Glasses up, Hair down
*** up, Face down
Ignore the sisters, I’m after the cousins
The catholic approved crevasse to bust in
I wouldn’t say im obsessed
But the ***** demon has me possessed
I’d call you blessed, its what you guessed
I’m hard pressed to bend you east and get at the west
I’m on a ***** quest with a lascivious request
to admire the caboose cleft
I can’t repent the intent of this unspent cement
But I’ll give up hemp for lent
Embark on a posterior pilgrimage of preposterous proportions,
Devoted to the search for thy voluminous bloons for which I swoon

"Art"

A masterpiece to last the ages
I open your book, read the folded pages
Lo, the story is far from done
I start to write, my pen, my tongue
Making you squeal
With my Author's Intent,
artistic zeal
Painting strokes and curves,
points and tapers
Adding words and images
upon your paper
Yet, I have so much more in store
As I slither in through the door
To the scent and flavor,
Hidden treasure I adore
You quiver and shiver
Again, again
Your delight is a river
Dripping down my chin
Just when you think
the story is at an end
I start to write with my other pen
Deep in the pages
of your soft skin
Again and again
and again