Dallas, November 1963 Jackie wears a pink dress at her husband’s request Unaware that it’ll soon be a mess As they ride through a crowd of the press She wonders which **** her husband gonna **** next Questioning how much fake can her heart take She does a deep breath but suddenly A bullet shot hits his neck & another through his head Leaving poor old Kennedy for dead Blood staining Jackie’s pink dress
She was like a carnival. She enjoyed freaks like me. She was fun to ride. She loved the games. She tasted like sweet cotton candy. And at the end of the night, she would melt into me like Dip n' dots ice cream. And then, I would lick her clean. I wish this carnival would never leave town.
written by me... ..
There was/is a carnival/festival that arrives every mid summer year in my area in Eden. One year when I was a bit younger, I was walking through this carnival with 2 of my male friends. We passed a group of 4 young women. Each woman was surprisingly fixated on me. There was a fine one, an okay one, one that I probably would never date and then there was her, "the Carnival". She was a bit overweight but her face was model material, beautiful! She would not stop letting me know how hot that she thought I was so.... I dated "the Carnival" (Angela) and all I can say is that I made the right choice. Wheeeew!
"When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses." ~JFK