Books are very useful -
You can throw them,
You can sleep on them,
You can be sniffing them,
Some people were even seen
To read them.

Pirates of pleasure

In foreign waters

Access to excess

The fingers linger

On a perfect rounded bottom

In a conga line

Lust is a bust

This is no love boat

It's headed for dry dock

As a floating hospital

Swimming the high seas

With some unknown disease

Let me send to you my crooked-teeth kisses that go wherever it pleases
In any direction it seeses
Let me collapse my belly into your head to crush it of thoughts that require your sadness
Make me shell out with my darkened fingers
These balanced book-flippers
These dreaded art-lispers
Let me forgo every drink offered
Forgotten and tossed
Away from my guts
Present my freezing body---shivering and severed
From your toasty peaches---your delightful a-speeches
Wondering if his hands are made of the lashes
That cause me to spasm
In fits and in hashes
Living breathing
Teardrop from heaven
I have no more pennies
To give to my parents
So sober up, Claudine
Don't forget your bearings
You're bearing the sharing
The giving
The caring
You must be astute
Strong-willed
A beaut
Nothing can beat
The life out of youth