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#toads
I failed 7th grade three times because I refused to **** wildflowers and press them between wax paper. I also refused to dissect frogs and other animals. Those wildflowers and frogs were all I had in the patch of woods...where I had to hide. My science teacher looked just like a toad with a beard. Ms Farley. Vermilion Middle School. Ohio
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Jul 28, 2022
Jul 28, 2022 at 9:22 PM UTC
Does this top any butterfly poet?
With a soft moist tongue you set up a sensuous trap waiting for careless little me to drop in and be shocked at the discovery that I am such a tasty prey
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 3:19 PM UTC
A MOSQUITO’S ODE TO A TOAD
buzzing in a sweltering evening marsh a swarm of mosquitoes vexed and unsettled waits for a cool swoosh from a toad
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
MOSQUITO THOUGHTS
If I were, a warlock I'd need a witch with me a *** for my potions and mermaids, by the sea some villagers, nearby with warts, and phlegm, to spare spells that are my pride an elm, and willow, pear We'll live as best we can till the inquisition arrives making sure my witchie wife gets on her broom, and flies Escaping to the wilderness we'll set up our abode without the persecution of men, I've turned into a toad
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 8:37 AM UTC
Toadally Spellerific
They were like two peas in a pod Holding hands Exchanging tongues Being prissy and laughing at those Who long before saw their act Though those two queers, they don’t see at all They are midgets, and little, and erectly small With puffed up chests Stroking hens of the Cornish variety All of them dregs of a social society Slum lords and criminal minds Under the sheets where no one sees Which one is giving the other the shaft **** and span they use after, oh so daft One erotically whispered to the other A Pain in the *** As they kissed over their biblical wine glass Seeking solace in each others arms Licking their wounds with grammars charm Grown men, committing sin after sin Then blaming others for saying God wants you to begin Acting like men And not emancipated boys Stop diddling and twiddling Leave alone your petite toys One day Jehovah will make clear Belittle others is worse than Queer Little queens swallowing their own vile While Ladies and Gentleman laugh At the ****** and the Clown In their lingerie and gown God decried, let those two drown Even Lucifer laughed under his frown
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:48 PM UTC
The Clown and the ******
Appreciation is showed for the marching band by how many horns are honked while cars drive by on the nearby road Or almost stepping on small baby Toads on the walk to your car In the middle of the night Sleep deprived It's okay, we wouldn't want it any other way
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 10:01 PM UTC
Car Horns
I know her intimately and not at all, Her fragrance infiltrates, chases me, A whiff off the tips of my fingers, The smell of her is hunger, It makes me wont to wolf and devour, Her flush on the flat of my tongue, Her angel whisper, Our quiet choir a pleasure, A harmony, A crescendo until we seed and mute. Between us, Our damp swap, A no man’s land, A moist design, The map of lust. The art of love is always, In its stains.
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Stains
They creep me out. Those sticky-out veins in your neck, the way they stretch like pythons’ tongues as if they’re going to snap – they’ll snap. Like elastic, they’ll snap (just the thought …) They creep me out, the fact that they’re so FLESHY and for some reason, remind me of goats’ beards and stringy turkey necks (I don’t know, but, just the thought …) They creep me out. I’ve got the weird feeling that they could be snipped away by silver scissors like loose threads. They’ll snap. Like elastic. They’ll snap. Stretching, Stretching (just the thought …)
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
Sticky-Out Veins In Your Neck