Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2011
My naked skin glistens
with strenuous sweat.
My name on your lips
urges me faster yet.
The Whip in your hand
is applied to my back.
I jump in my tracers
to the head of the pack.
As we round the last turn
To hollers and cheers,
I look forward to oats,
My Jockey , to beers
Maybe not what you're thinking. Tally **!
John F McCullagh
Written by
John F McCullagh  63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)   
943
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems