I’ll trace the lines of a love poem
With the tip of my generous tongue
I’ll bend you over a sonnet
pounding your heart with verse
Until you come
Closer to the slippery edge
Of the highest haiku peak

Pulsing cranes shoot from
Sky following deep swallows
Cascading heat wing

The beat of the sextet
Engorges the plump plum with tantalizing taste
As the surging wind tickles swirling grass meadows
A pirates plunder
unbridled womanly chaste
Riding my large prose with feminine pleasure
Until both writhing bodies are drenched in chicken broth rain
I will slather you in brilliant color
As you vacantly stare ecstatic
Groaning through the augustan age