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ConnectHook Sep 2015
STICK’EM UP with LIQUID NAILS

DANGER ! EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE
        See Other Caution on Back Panel:

I’m hot for you Cowgirl – you’re so flammable my glue-gun starts to melt; my screwdriver starts twisting when you loosen that low-slung belt. You make me feel like laying re-bar in a freshly-poured foundation. Shoot me up with that caulk gun baby – I need you like salvation. Ten and one-half fluid ounces – pull off your top, pop a love-cap in me. Fingerin’ your trigger while the job is gettin’ bigger so take me for a ride to the hardware store, honey, cause I’m seeing red and feeling white on your golden background’s sheer delight.  Hammer me a heart-full, spike me on a cross of blonde, I’m hanging ten, surfing the tube of your magic wand. I’ve been in love ever since I first waterproofed my seamy undersides with you… stand over me in those red, red boots, you Liquid Nails Girl – and from your pure white Stetson let righteousness unfurl. You won the shoot-out long before you even drew, my dear. Lost hope of the Wild West, Final Frontal Feminine Frontier – there’s only one side of you…  your GOOD side.  Just one look and your fearless gaze silences the foes, my blooming prairie rose.
YEE – HAW !  Be my angel, be my dream, my valentine rodeo queen, be my bodyguard, my therapist, long & tall & hard & wet – be my Liquid Nails Girl forever and I’ll ride right into your sunset…
They took her off the trademark tube years ago but she will NEVER be forgotten:

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/owed-to-a-caulk-gun/
King Panda Mar 2016
it takes guts
to run red into
the sun
it takes guts
to mollify
me
I write you
poems
to watch myself
divide
I write you
poems
to watch my
purple go

run red into
the sun
run red
cowgirl
queenie
it takes guts
to march into
the sun
It takes guts
to mollify
me

I wonder what
you’re thinking
I wonder if you
want to watch
my purple go
I write you
poems to
watch myself
divide
I write you
poems
to run red
red cowgirl
queenie

I love you
more
I love you
red run
into the sun
I write you
poems to
watch myself
divide
I write you
poems to
watch my
purple go
Alexander Feb 28
Holly and she
That's not me
Cowgirl and princess
I don't wear a dress

Alex and he
That's more of my bee
Prince and King
Now that's my dream
I'm a guy
Marigolds Fever Sep 2018
Cowgirl boots cost her
just little pay
She knows to play it safe
Keepin them cowboys away
Wants soft black fur
To keep her warm at night...
they say
She murmurs by candlelight ...
Country bear soothing...
them Cowboys cause me fright
She doesn’t want a man
She’s lookin for a country bear
That’s her true fan
Cowboys want to make her purr
But a country bear is gona stretch his paws and groan
I finally found her
Big bear wont mind what she does with that hair
Cause he’s her country bear
She’s his woman
He’s her furry scare
Try not to stare
When they’re hittin the town fair
Kissin at the top of that ferris wheel
Ladies want to know
What’s that she feel
Township whispers..
there she goes
Smoochin that ******* bear
Maybe it ain’t no big deal
This is too surreal
Watching this
They eatin cotton candy
in complete bliss
Later in fright
Before the early light
All the ladies pray
Keep them cowboys at bay
Send me a country bear like Miss Fray
And we might promise to obey
Her secret
They want to know
She said forget it
Go to your rodeo
Bears ain’t something I’m about to share
That country woman
That country bear
It’s the perfect love affair
Otis  Apr 7
(y&u&m&m&y)
Otis Apr 7
bleak rot
traces static cube rim glasses
and chases the quota
of the sum
of the total
of the whole
into a long and tall and capital I.

I am red of ear, slink of wrist,
and marrow;
fuming like a full tread insect.

slanderous geology
as tongue speckling glory
is ****** and lowly
on the cowgirl trail
showing it's back
as it's best
and trading weekdays
for poor metals.

fibrous, numinous
radiology. sulking and wading.
tributary becomes runnel
becomes mighty becomes cash
becomes pulpit, or pulp.
Luiz Jan 16
On an uneventfull
Monday afternoon,
she lays in bed dressed
in black laced lingerie

Then, a glowing,
vibrating screen
reads: "Hubby cell"

She starts:
Hello?

Him:
My darling,

I've had a bad day
I'm tired, done and
frustrated

right now
I could really use
your sweet lips
to numb my ails

I won't take time with
the usual foreplay,
not today!

I'm flying home
still dressed in my
3 piece suit and
I'm making a crash
landing on the couch

Her:
Really?

Him:
That's right!

and when I get to that
leather reclyner
you're coming out
the bedroom

you'll be wearing
your 4 inch heels,
the candy red lipstick,
the black bralette
that make your gorgeous
******* look so suculant,
and nothing else

Her:
is that right?!

the bralette that makes
my ******* hard
when you just
stare at them?

Him:
That same one!

Her:
Then what am I doing after that?

Him:
Then, you will float
slowly over to me
sit on my pipe and
start rubbing
yourself against
my metal manhood!

Her:
Hum...I see,
am I getting wet
all over your pants
as I start to ride you
like a cowgirl?

Him:
I want to be sticky wet
with your candilicious liquid
all on my pants!

so much so,
that your
honey will
drench thru to
my manhood!

I will have your perfume
all over my steel before
you're done galloping, baby!

Her:
(She can't resist
but to see the words
come to life)
She tells him:
I'm getting the honey
flowing just listening to you!
my mouth is watering
(licks her upper lip)
I'm touching...

Him:
Stop! like I said,
this is for me!
make no mistake!

you'll be my *****
and I, your master!

after you engulf me
in your essence,
you'll tenderly kiss
my sugary neck
as take my tie
and shirt off!

with your other
soft and burning hand
you will trace
all the gorging,
fat veins from
my other neck!

Her:
But babe, I'll need you
in me by then!

I'll be drenching
sweetness for you!

Him:
You're going to wait!

Her:
Why are you being
such a ****?

Him:
Because for today,
that's all I will
be to you!

The biggest, most
delicious popsickle
for the deepest,
dryest reaches
of your throat!

Her:
(No words articulate
she loved giving oral
and the poet knew it)

(the writer was going
to **** her silly
with his voice alone
before he even
touched her)

(he finally understood
the power he could
summon with
fantasy filled words.)

(only heavy breathing
and dry swalloying
is heard on his end
of the phone)

(******* images
of her bobbing head
start flooding into
her warm and
drenching womanhood)

(clear honey is bursting
from sweaty, tight,
pleasure lips)

(she slips half a tongue out,
as if to catch rain from
in between her shaky hips)

(the sugary rivers flow
onto shaved hair follicles
and manicured fingers
as if he turned her ****
on like a fauset!)  

(the poet had morphed
from a hurt cub
to a Lion King
at his prime!)

(she's a tornado of sensuality
throbbing.
touching.
finding herself.
******* herself.
tasting the deliciousness
sticking to her index)

(she gets lost in a
blissful landscape
between her red,
bothered *******
and her open hips) 

(she comes to reality)

then, with a trembling
low voice wisphers:

"yes master, how else
may I serve you?"

Him:
Your ocean blue weepers will
not look away from my eyes
as they roll back with pleasure!

you'll be looking
up at me on your knees!  

bobbing your head,
choking, wanting more!

you will feel the tip
of my steel gorche
with blood and
you'll move your head
faster and faster
as I quench your
thirst for sin!

Gods will peek in envi
as your face fulfills my
carnal fantasies

until I burst my dam
into your mouth!

Her:
(She **** undone
and squirts from
between her legs!)

(her moan echoes
for half a block:)

"Hhaaawwwwww!!!!"

the silk sheets are
drenched with ambrosia

Him:
mission accomplished  
I'm at the driveway  
get your gorgeous face and heels ready!

THE CALL

Luiz (at thedriveway) Syphre
©2019
Tulsa 4d
Gentle muzzle
velvet soft
lipping at my palm
searching for the treats,
sugar and molasses
a rich combination
only a good horse
earns.


Supple leather
worn smooth
over years of dedication
and application
that comes from
this sport.
Nights
already promised ahead of time,
three months earlier,
hauling to deserted fairgrounds
a dusky sky setting the tone
for lead ropes
threaded
through stock trailer slats
cow dogs
running
up down sideways
trailing owners between horses legs and rusty pickups.

Tacking up
underneath floodlights
set to the soundtrack
of jangling spurs
and soft nickers.
Younger kids
hanging on the arena rails
drinking syrupy sweet
soda
a tradition
root beers before your run
good luck
in our community.

Foot in the stirrup
old braided reins in hand
leather,
broken into submission,
pliable
under years
of use.

Slapping hands
with other riders
who already went
horses,
slick with sweat
foaming at the mouth
ready to go again
with rippling muscles
still taunt in the sticky summer night,
aching for one last run.
three turns
and a gallop home,
don't care about the money
unless you beat your last time-
your only competitor
is
yourself
and
the
clock.

Hard packed dirt
pounded down by hooves,
tails swishing at flies
as you wait
for your turn.
Adrenaline and happiness,
an addictive cocktail,
these are the nights
I
love.

— The End —