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Robert Ronnow May 15
I have a special interest in telling about my colonoscopy.
The doc cheerful, secure in his specialty, colon cancer being
the second leading cause of cancer death after lung tumors.
They can snip the precancerous polyps right out of you during the test.
At first the doc gave me the statistics but having paid 25 bucks for this
I decided to make him explain the science. He was most comfortable
describing the physical architecture of adenomatous v. hyperplastic
but what about cell structure I said. He was vague about genes and
I could have been chatting with an Electrolux salesman.
I wasn’t worried although my *** was burning.
Everybody dies, everybody, even Whitman and Emerson, so I browse
      models for dying—
mine are middlebrow, saddlebow—John Wayne in The Shootist, Paul
      Newman in Hombre—or hagiography
Plath her head stuck in an oven, Hemingway who ate his shotgun.
Anyway I was upbeat flirting with the nurse, a muse who has seen it all
acting tough, which isn’t actually an act
you do your prep and say your prayers.
I thought I’d be in and out **** as you probably already know
the prep for this procedure is worthy of Gandhi. A day of fasting,
clear fluids only, and constant voiding.
You arrive at the hospital one spiritual chicken.
I reflected it can’t hurt, lose a little weight, remember who you are
without so much **** and flesh between you and the natural world.
Snipping polyps is like taking electrons to a lower quantum energy level,
      nearer the nucleus, with fasting and ****** abstinence.
The art of total presence and abstinence, dependence on the Other for
      future existence.
Jeremy Betts May 5
She wants me less and less everyday
Which is why I think about walking away
And I know exactly what she's gonna say
She will turn it on me in a spectacular way
I used to hate that it's something I was able to say
I just don't care anymore

Can I confess?
That it wasn't my dress,
That led you to see
Me in my vest.
Dress to impress,
I do indeed.
But not to be stripped
And dipped in your sheets.
So you see,
Your desires,
Are your OWN to keep.

And do NOT blame a woman
Who you made unclean.
A flatter,
To tamper.
Bruises on my skin.
You loath in power
From a delicate flower,
Seduced by ruthless sin.
Frills and thrills,
Shrieks that shrill,

This was your proudest win.
Kevin Collington Jan 2014
I searched for a feeling that made me feel like a million
Went to hell and back sometimes had to be a chameleon
But when my time to feel it I was rocky road ready
When I saw your hidden treasure i knew dinner was hot and ready
So I step into the abyss deep in your ocean for that buried treasure
When i cracked open your box i found ecstasy and pleasure
My land was ready for you to drop the bomb on it
Had my soldiers ready all protected just in case of crooked mission
You wanted me to Iraq you and sneak up from behind
But I'm cautious so what I give you is hard to find
My friends said I was fraternizing‎ with the enemy
But when your soldier is at attention with a dime piece ain't **** you can say to me

I cooked you dinner while your dessert on the menu
The funny is to me you used to cold like with the flu ha chu
Finger itching finger licking for a taste of that bubble yum
soon as you let me enter it became on and popping like some bubble gum
If you the enemy i surrender my flag to you
what you got is boss no suit and tie but loyal
moscato had me feeling like i hit the lotto
especially when you spread it like butter and show me what you used to ride my bike like Throttle

I'm going all in i hope my soldiers don't shoot quick
I hope she nasty and her intentions is to meet my kids
Round 4 still at war on that kitchen floor
Round  5 we park benched to the subway doors
i love your sweet nectar your bee hive has stung bee
No poison venom just love uncontrollably
I’m deep in your treasure giving you techniques to remember
My Love and Head Games will keep you saying"Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?"
Brianna Nov 2023
You pin me against the wall- sharp intake of breath and I’m melting down my thighs.
Your hands are rough.
Your lips are soft
And stop… stop… no don’t stop.

I’m gasping and you’re pulling my hair- the fire in my stomach grows and I’m on my knees again.
I swore I’d never be on my knees again for you.

But your hands are rough against my skin.
Your lips are hungry and sweet.
And I don’t want you to stop… stop… oh my god don’t stop.

I remember the first time you starved me with those eyes.
The way you ran them up and down my body from my neck to my ******* to my hips to my thighs I knew.
I’d never be free of that stare or you ever again.

And I’d always want your rough hands gripping mine as you slammed them back.
And I’d always want that wet kiss running down my stomach lower and lower.
And I knew I’d never stop…. Stop… ****, I’ll never stop loving you.
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