When I say I’m a nudist
I am told I’m disgusting
But then, I keep forgetting
It’s that “people don’t ****” thing.
And people don’t ****
And nobody ever craps.
They just keep their napkin
Tucked safely in their laps.
They don’t belch, not ever,
And nobody picks their nose.
It’s the way of polite folks
And that’s just how it goes.

Well, let me remind you
Where you were born,
And where you came out of,
And that you were shorn
Of any kind of clothing
Both mother and the child.
You were born like the animals
Both domestic and wild.

You are naked one assumes
When you shower your body
So, please quit acting like
****** is something shoddy.
Your parent put such madness
Inside of your innocent head;
Things like getting re-dressed
Each night when you go to bed.

The insanity of Europeans
Who came to American soil
And wore LAYERS of clothing
In the heat while they toiled.
Then they went to other lands
And warped the people there
With the strange brand of madness
They had been taught to share.

They were taught to be ashamed
Of what god had given them;
That their private parts were evil
And turned you into a golem.
And when asked for a reason
For this weird kind of crazy
They started talking about god
When their logic got all hazy.

So you “people don’t ****” folks
Can just kiss my naked ***.
That thinking might work for you
But for me it won’t pass
For anything but brainwash
And the programming of the sick.
So wake the hell up, the rest of you
And get on the natural stick.

If I want to be naked all day
And you want to wear clothing
That should be each of our choice;
A personal ‘go or don’t go’ thing.
I mean, for a perfect example here
Think of laundry bill savings
So, you can just stop harassing
And gnashing and raving.

Brent Kincaid
4/12/2015

Your very presence does to me,
the inexplicable.
I watch you shyly.
You, walkin' like a lady.
in smokin' yoga pants.
Lately rocking only sweats.
I swear you had a beard one day.
I want to approach you, eager, and say:
"I like it. Please take me away."

Confines stunt now and wilt my insides
when I simply chance a glance at mirrors.
Why would I stay here when I'm unwelcome?
These ******* confines wilt me and
will **** me someday, much faster then the
cancer I'd like.

Can't get you out of my head,
thrashin' nightly in my bed.
Who the ****'s to say I can't live the way
I see myself deeply, inside out?
But then I dream about the toilets.
I still dream about the tension.
How do you walk so tall
and split the difference when you're broke as ****?
Morally bankrupt, hunting pennies to pay your sins?
Is this line you walk
the brittle back of safety, or
is this line that's been drawn
the fear of native captives
waiting for spit?
I like it so much I'd even meet you
on your worst day just knowing
I could be the god I am,
without definition,
**** and lying on grass.

The tears of gender on my bed sheets,
too tired of the run to get up.
I'll inter myself, to ******* rise anew,
no obligations outside of love,
and if it makes old love boil in blood,
then,

****.

It's after midnight now
I've come to howl
the words my muse
keeps in her bag
She's a blackhearted *****
with gnarly teeth
and razor thin lips to bare
She has kerosene breath
and her fingers are as cold as death
She's long desired
to catch me in bed
But I would drown in the creek
before I would be tongue bound
and give in to such an ugly witch
She plys me with liquor
He tongue is word flickered
She dances around and around
I stand but falter , and tumble on over
And she's quicker than a cat on a moth
She's licking my neck
and I shudder from cold z' over
She lays across my chest and declares
"I'll put you to test , taking all of your best"
Then she slides her hands under my shirt
Then cackling with glee
she strips down my clothes to my "T's"
So excited she trembles ecstatically
She raises her dress and sits down upon me
She screams  in such delight like
two bobcats fighting at night
And I lay helpless as I stare
She moans , then groans
then short tempered yells
and many an "almost"  and "Oh Oh Oh's"
Then turns soft as a quail
Her fingers now all over warm
Replacing the cackles and bows
a beautiful voice that glows
She whimpers like a puppy scorned
She's now in the buff
And little concerned
In the calm after the storm
her true beauty really shows

Flirting with dreams
and myths
a fling with Aphrodite
so **** in a bikini
lying on the sand
with ivory skin
finely formed arms
swelling *******
slender waist
navel
sumptuous buttocks
flaring hips
and convex belly
comely thighs on either side
with calves and feet
perfectly poised
the purity of ******
for all eternity.

Our summers carried hot days
where our skins shook loose and raw
wet and sticky
warm and blurry
like shared memories.
We loved the rain and shower
and felt safe under their power.
In the stormiest night I knew
we decided to cleanse ourselves of the day.
We stripped down to the ****.
We didn't know we had it in us.
The fence is high enough.
The sky is dark enough.
The fog is thickly cut
with a waterfall of storm.
We lit up blue when we heard thunder.
Stared at what's up above
and ran to shelter.
Our skins were soaked and bare.
It seemed to be a dare.
I looked down and my shoes were still on.
The magic disappeared.

I remember you like a famous brachiosaur, ensconced in the terrible street lamps of west county apartment block row. That swaying bronze gate to your three flat two room apartment. Skinny legs for the couch, the backroom bedroom, and the bunk beds in the master suite. We studded me for excellent squeeze; one trident pull switching time against a baited lock. "I'll swallow you whole," you brushed off into my ear while I passed your cheek with my lips, braising your skin with dew drops of our rushes and sweat. Even for April this was alright. Your brother had already moved out, and listening to Hall and Oates and going fishing was all you wanted to do. So I made us two root beer floats with Almond Milk ice cream, and settled into you for five hours and forty-five minutes. It was before 5:00a.m. when you turned to the night and spilled the last ounces of your naked body out to me beneath the satin sheets. I pressed my lips hard against your nose and whispered I'd be leaving soon. Still I do not recall if I woke you when I left, but I remember that next day when you questioned if I had.

****** is not *******,
skin is not something to hide.
You are not a body with a soul,
rather a soul with a body
that you needn't be ashamed to show.
Feel the sun on your chest
and the grass between your toes
and breathe in contentment
as the wind writes poetry on your body
with it's gentle, kind mouth.
Do not be offended by human anatomy,
an elegant miracle held bare in its glory.