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Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little

He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
Kara Jean May 2016
Criticism is validating
Your love is a choke hold
A marriage committed to my compromise
Generic mending
Each strand of bronzed chunk, represented a vow you gave me
The scissors cold and bare, cutting it away from my body
Swept into the nearest waste facility  
I was invested until the end
Dying with you was never scary
I now degrade, picking scraps off picture frame edgings
Look at us so happy
Lusted objectifying could qualify as the new I do
Well, we didn't make it to 80 not even 32
Congratulations to your selfish needs buddy
I hope you finally find you
Here take this ring, it doesn't fit me
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
Our worlds keep spinning; around and around!
Constantly spinning around!

When I was a child, I’d open my mouth and bite the moon,
When I was a boy, I’d lay my head within the stars,
And when I grew old, there was no place like home,
When I died, flowers grew from the palms of my hands.

When I was a star I sailed for a boy with a dream,
When I was a moon a child bit a chunk out of me,
And when I grew old, there was no place like home,
When I died, flowers grew from the palms of my hands.

Our worlds keep spinning; around and around!
Constantly spinning around!
The cycle of life!
A Valentine's Card dressed
With Steve Buscemi's face,
photoshopped onto a child,
disturbing and hilarious,
tattooed on the inside
with once-true truths.

A severed chunk of
35 mm film,
cut in a rhombus,
or trapeze or whatever,
highly flammable.

A piece of cloth
I brought with me,
And the part of
the belt I had to cut
off so it would fit
my skinny ***.
Flammable, slightly.

A dead and dried up leaf,
Impaled on the bulletin board,
From a tree I don't even know what,
That sometimes crinkles with the wind,
If she were alive still,
She would comment on the
Cold thumbtack spear
In her abdomen, and
Sniff regrets at the sweet,
Artificial Vanilla waves below.

I keep my wall of
flammable memories
Above a lit candle,
Every day, I wish the flames
Would reach a little higher, but
Every day, the wax sinks,
low, low, lower still.
Snootchie Bootchies
patty m Jan 2015
Beware they whisper and I am so aware,
that before me lies the road to despair.
I want to believe, my heart wants to sing
but no one can say what tomorrow will bring.
Closed is one door with resounding slam
hiding horrible memories a terrible sham.
Another door opens with light shining through
an angel is singing "I'm here for you."
I jump over the fire, tears on my face
to follow the leader and fall out of grace.
Words of the living run through my head
as I dance the macabre with phantoms all dead.  
Drowning in illusion I resurface and then
jump in a cesspool and drown once again.
Oh to be touched by the magic of caring,
to see words on the page besides hatred and swearing.
Perhaps I'll carve a chunk
from the side of the moon,
or dance with a lover in some private room.  
Hand over hand holding tight to the rope,
I walk each new day searching for hope.  
But night is coming with a scowl on it's face
the leopard is hungry so I won't go to waste.
If I see tomorrow what happens then?
I'll open another door and begin once again.
Ian Watson Jun 2017
He is off to devour the babysitter
No need for shoes in the summer heat
No need for pants inside the house
Three steps at a time, claws awhir
Teeth aching to crunch the bones of his Brazilian prey

Sometimes I remember to move carefully around his loud, joyful willingness
Or I don't remember
And tear out a fat chunk of adventure with a stinging rebuke

But he is a T-Rex with two tons to spare
written 2007
made by inserting line breaks into the top chunk of my 8.0k words*

know like
just thing inside
**** maybe
life things think
soul time real love
day lines **** mind eyes

got feel
want words trying
left matter
tongue feet hands
door cold

space holy
bones way wanna *******
we're walked walls
truth open
end line best
years ***** ink heart
little moments stories says
dust hand
free hope trust

sad wish
hell rising past inner fingers
night white teeth sit deep
dunno tell crystal
sure wanted make pull sky
remember dropped felt knees
brimming poetry

******* air seen
lips palms spin
lonely black mouth  
hard page
really dreams ready

fear other's crack  
corner survival broken
hollow home
clear tears coming
edge high pain
thought bubbles wet

push imperfect bloom  
breaking skin motions
mystical flow say lost
direct warm red
use having meant  
there's floor shaking
friendship grey  
arms wrong cracked

ride doubt escape
knew look
bare right girl
wonder feeling
finger days
Ananya Kalahasti Nov 2017
Our first kiss was in my basement, one year,
and three hundred and forty-seven days ago,

his lips tasted like the saccharine double chocolate chunk ice cream
that he licked off my spoon just minutes ago, beard
brushing against the soft bottom of my chin,
                                                           ­                   his hand slipped
into mine as we walked away from yet another birthday celebrated,
it’s been seven since we first became friends

and his hands have finally stopped trembling.

Her eyes convey concern as her head slowly rises up from mine.

“This is a bad idea.”
In her face, against the lightly accented string lights

I see his eyes, tears welling up,

I know I can’t do this, I can’t kiss her, I can’t lose her

I can’t betray him.

I know this is wrong but

I love her and as she leans back down our lips crash together,
hers are plain, soft, safe,

When he cries, he sniffles more than he sobs, when I see him sad, powerless,
my heart cracks, I made a promise in my basement to never be the cause of this suffering,

my right hand runs through her soft hair, twirled between my *******
left hand resting on her cheek, I can feel that under her eyelid she is helpless,
I feel powerless, captivated by the twinkle in her eyes when she laughs,

I feel as though I am held hostage in her arms, yet a wave of freedom washes over me,

I don't know how I feel all I know is I don't yet want this to end,

we both want this,

yet I tell him it is my fault, I hold him close to my chest, my fingers run through
his wildly curly hair,
                     she pulls me closer as we continue to fight rationality,
and in this moment, we are breathing in synchrony, I taste nothing saccharine,

only feeling her soft lips and a bittersweet moment

edit: this poem was written as an assignment for my poetry class, in which we were told to put ourselves in the shoes of a character who had made a life changing decision that we ourselves would never make. i would never cheat, this poem was written as pure fiction with no basis in real life.
Pyrrha Jan 31
My world is not
A giant chunk of floating iron
Orbiting a sun, harboring a moon

My world is not
Concrete sidewalks
Made for hopscotch and chalk

My world is not
A prayer in the wind
Sent from shivering lips

My world is
Jeanette Jul 30
When on my most desolate path
That needed not just
Sprucing up
But overhauling
Not a sprinkler
But an intensive one
Gentle and Constant

You pruned my thorns
And witheredness
Dug a bit to root out
Skeletons and brokenness
Strew a big chunk of compost
Covering deep depression
Gently soothed with saltless tears
And Oh so Constantly
Compost here stands for compassion affection love
Saltless tears : water. Support to let one grow to fullness again.
Xallan Jan 28
I feel more at home than ever I be
Breathing this air of Hawaii-
This island air.
I love it, the warm wetness
That settles against my cheek

The whole island is my skin,
And it fits. That island air
Fills every corner of my lungs
And allows me to breathe
I feel most at home standing here
In this island air.

In the warm rain, music
That my ears have been craving
The emptiness of the night
Reminding me of my distance
From the heartbreaks and stresses
Of the chunk of land I call
'Home'- my soul now lives here
In this island air, distant
As possible from human society
Close to the centre of civilization

Here the breaks are wet, and warm
And splash lovingly
Across my new skin like kisses
Here in this island air I stand
Here I find a home.
Ammar Younas Dec 2018
Beyond your imagination is a fairyland
That kingdom which you've never seen
Let us run to that land of love
Of which you will be the sole queen

Beyond your dreams is garden of heaven
Where sunshine will fall only at you
We'll float  in your internal galaxies
You'll be the reflecting drop of dew

Beyond your thoughts is unknown me
Who day by day is becoming monk
Writing his poems in praise of you
Presenting his soul chunk by chunk
All rights reserved
Mark Oct 4
Barnyard ****, just raised a city born, sort of a chick    
Even gave her the surburban name of Sandra Dee Fonda
A pretty slow blonde critter, some even say, short of a tick      
Bred way-down and far-away, ‘bout 70 miles yonder            
Y’all be knowing dat Hick-Hop thang, is what it‘s all about            
While hootin’ and scootin’, never let ya kissin’ cousin, flake out
Hee Haw, says it all, when we were a pickin’ and a grinnin’
Asking Goober, What are ya doin’ and what’s dat ya diggin’?  
Perhaps I may yet die, with my boots still placed upon            
Cowards never really stay around here long enough             
To actually become real cowboy shootin’ stuff, my dear            
I say, ‘Hang ‘em first and try ‘em later on’            
My life was always threatened daily            
That’s why, I went out heavily armed, just like an Israeli      
I’ve been invited to the Marty Party, along with Brother Brown
But, I thought killing a man, was my one and only, speciality
Even drafted a business proposition, for this exact locality
Since I’ve had the market cornered, in da middle of downtown
From Cornfield, Alabama to Deadwood, South Dakota            
There’s no import or export taxes, so no **** amount of quota
So, me, you and even that Clay Ellison, will be riding a winner
Even after killin’ that Chunk Kolbert, straight after his dinner  
Perhaps I may yet die, with my boots still placed upon
Cowards never really stay around here long enough
To actually become real cowboy shootin’ stuff, my dear            
I say, ‘Hang ‘em first and try ‘em later on’            
My life was always threatened daily            
That’s why, I went out heavily armed, just like an Israeli        
They’ll be gettin’ da same amount of ice, as Knoxville            
But the rich will be a gettin’ it, in da summertime            
While the poor will be a gettin’ it, in da wintertime            
If I owned Texas & Hell, I’d rent out Texas & live in Hell            
So, don’t ever think about, hittin’ ya mother with a shovel            
It’ll leave a dull impression on her already fragile mind            
I’m not afraid to die, as a brave man fighting shall            
But I wouldn’t wanna be killed, like a dog unarmed, so please be kind            
Perhaps I may yet die, with my boots still placed upon
Cowards never really stay around here long enough
To actually become real cowboy shootin’ stuff, my dear            
I say, ‘Hang ‘em first and try ‘em later on’            
My life was always threatened daily            
That’s why, I went out heavily armed, just like an Israeli            
I see a good many enemies around me, who will walk            
But notice mighty few friends, that are willing to talk            
They would then, drink right smart            
They could then, scrap right smart            
But, I didn’t come here to talk, I just came here to hang            
Just a peekin’ through, the hour glass thang  
Perhaps I may yet die, with my boots still placed upon
Cowards never really stay around here long enough
To actually become real cowboy shootin’ stuff, my dear            
I say, ‘Hang ‘em first and try ‘em later on’            
My life was always threatened daily            
That’s why, I went out heavily armed, just like an Israeli.
Blake Sep 2018
Do you ever feel like you’re running?
Like, you’re in a race, and you’re running faster than you’ve ever run before
You’re in last place
And you can’t seem to catch up
In fact
The harder you push yourself to run faster
The farther away everyone else seems
Like in every situation you’re in, be it learning in school, or sports, or social interactions with friends, there’s this big chunk of stuff you’re missing, and everyone else is in on it, and you are left feeling confused, clueless, and less than yourself.
Do you know that feeling?
The one that you experience when the teacher always has to explain things to you a second time only they have to explain them differently, simpler, slower, every time, to the point where you no longer even listen to the first explanation.
The one when you’re with a group of people, and someone says a joke, implies soemthing, or even just speaks to you, and you turn to your friend so they can explain what’s going on.
The one when you begin to procrastinate everything especially school work and you begin just not even doing it, because if you don’t do it then no one can say you’re dumb, instead you’re just lazy.
The one when you start to understand why sometimes you are offered the same extra help as the kids seen as “special cases”
The one when you always feel lost, and start to believe you have no chance in life because you how could you go anywhere if you are constantly behind everyone else.
Do you know that feeling?
I know that feeling well.

I’m tired of always being behind everyone
Sometimes I feel like I actually might have a brain disfuntion. Like I’m slow. And that scares the hell out of me.
Rim Aug 29
Where should she turn her gaze?
She is in neverland, where sorrow belongs in no man's heart.
“I am here. This is now. Is created only what I will allow. Here I am. This is mine. I will design my very own cloud nine.”
The white dove is effortlessly clutching the child by her cloudy robe.
She seamlessly blends in with the bird.
Following the whistling wind, she resembles a feather.
A white dove solely listening to her singing heart she aspires to become.
"A white dove I shall be", she whispers to herself as she fights off the bird's tight grasp, releasing herself from her dress.
Naked, she begins to plummet in seemingly never-ending heavens.
She tries to hold on to something but the sky is emptier than a wicked man's heart.
The once azure-colored ether is now gradually turning into a muddy gray, like the heavens during a humid stormy night.
As her background becomes darker, her vision turns murkier.
She stares at the skin covering her quivering muscles and notices macroscopic dust mites crawling into her skin, feeding on it.
A bare and shivering chunk of flesh serving as nourishment to parasites the child has become.
She screams, but she cannot hear herself, for the wind is whistling louder than her cry for help.
She gazes upon the sky and sees the North Star's gentle light graze her harmed skin.
She forcefully shuts her eyelids and sees the infinite universe with its trillions upon trillions stars staring back at her.
She opens her eyes.
Puzzled, the white flying dove stares at her with its round black marbles.
The child is still held by its gentle claws clutching her robe.
It was a dream.
It was all a dream.

Anxiety: a projection toward the future.
Yenson May 9
A gifted black footballer
earns two hundred and eighty thousand pounds a week
lives in a four million pounds mansion
and owns Bentleys, Mercedes top range, Lamborghini
plays for club and Nation

"You're a monkey screams the man
here's a banana, you waste of space
boohooo bohhh hoo"
f..k-off you *******

The screaming man
is a talent-less floor sweeper at a local factory
on zero contract, he earns a hundred and eighty pounds a week
has two pairs of jeans to his name
and trainers he's owned for four years

so dear pals
will somebody tell us
who is the monkey here
can anybody with a single brain cell
please advise us, as who is the real anodyne, imbecilic,
unmitigated, uber brainless, mega-foolish and dumb Monkey, here

who is the brainless pathetic *******
who is the talent-less
who is the ignorant savage, who is the black puddle of *****
who is the one with the problem

and why should you use a hefty chunk
of your measly hundred and eighty pounds a week
to go sit in the cold with thousand others
and watch Monkeys play with a ball
People bully others because they have a certain imbalance in their psyche that can only be fixed when they bully a powerless victim.

The reasons some people become bullies
Children who are mistreated at home start feeling insecure and inadequate and as a result some of them become bullies because this provides them with a great deal of relief. A sense of importance which they lack as they are normally ignorant and talent-less. In life they are insignificant and usually overlooked.

A person might become a bully in order to feel worthy. By devaluing the target the bully feels superior and so maintains his delusional self worth and protects his fragile ego.

Insecurity is another big reason for bullying. Because bullies feel insecure they try to create an illusion of being in control by bullying a victim they envy and knows has all the qualities they so openly lack.

From the outside bullies might appear strong and in control but from the inside they know they are insecure, inadequate and inferior.

Another popular reason for bullying is attention seeking. Some people become bullies because they are desperately in need of attention and bullying in this case is the only thing they can do to bring some attention to themselves.

The bully who is in need of attention, who feels jealous of his victim or who is trying to feel superior and in control has usually became who he is because of poor parenting., lack of proper education, bad choices made and a damaged or problematic childhood. All this nourishes low self esteem and envy and burning jealousy in those they perceive as being 'better than them. A damaged mind seeks relief in making others miserable because they have no self worth and feel incapable of inner contentment and real happiness.
Iskra Aug 2018
How oddly comforting it is to live in a place where we’re never alone,
Where a friend to talk to,
Or perhaps a long-since past captured moment
All live inside the screen of a phone.

Where we seek momentarily vibrant entertainment,
A single click away from any form of instant gratification,
Thirty seconds of an advertisement are too long a wait
To listen to an empty, hollow song.
There is no more journey, only destination.

Teased for anything that makes one stand out,
Young boys and girls are taught to be vain.
Flooded with images of perfection
Who needs uniqueness when we can all be the same?

Neon signs, boastful words, glimmering lights,
“Progress”, we call it,
Conceal the smoke and grime,
The poisoned seas and wheezing forests.
Yet we never take the hint,
Even when it’s plastered around, a collection of signs
Pushing our problems on the next generation to solve,
We’ve made it this far, so we’ll never die…

Society is split,
And it was greedy hands that cut the cake,
Making it look like a chart,
Of the pie variety,
One of the ones that has one vast, delicious chunk,
And the rest is so small
That the figures are written off to the side.
Just crumbs left to eat for the frightening numbers of those
Born below that line
Such twisted irony:
For the one of the cheapest foods in the store
Is flour.

No happiness for the ones at the bottom
Except for patriotic half-truths.
“All men are created equal.”
So are bricks I suppose.
Except that in a pyramid, most are destined to lay
Close to the ground,
Worn, chipped, and dust-covered,
And but a few gleam in the golden rays of the sun,
The few on top, bathed in wealth.
But without its base, the system will crumble.
At least that’s what they say.

So we let ourselves be told how to think,
Never looking outside our bottles and bubbles for the source of reasoning.
“She’s a sinner, he’s just lazy.”
Such cruel things about unfortunate souls
The crowd can say.
But why?
“Because they chose to be that way.”
It’s simple of course, when only the individual
Can be to blame.

Society’s sentencing
Replacing the need for a God in a way,
Chains of morality, while amorphous through time
Have always been and will always stay.

And we judge without stopping to think,
Who told us that this is the way to think,
To think about why it is that we think
In this way.

Floating inside our bubbles and bottles,
Too steeped in others’ thoughts and words
To lift our chins,
Look around
And think of our own.

We’re ever marching forward,
To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow
Effectively staying in place.
Though the landscape around us ebbs and flows
In our nature,
Essentially we never changed.
Inspired by Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World
Check the flows that double dutch
Even make Frankie's bus double clutch
Overtime im over time **** a limit
Landed on Plymouth rock hard to knock
Me out of the box like womens of Deborah *** we can't be friends
If you only after dividends no pretend
Suckas leechin' as an extend
No ropes to hang on im so long gone
Toxic ozone folks get the prolong
Once they hear the words over the song
Beat on my chest like king kong ding ****
Managers said i was wrong  for soundin' his gong
All ya heard was a bell that wrung sprung by my quick blow a pro dynamite pyro
Stick to what ya know rapper's in slo mo
Once I get the shine and glow
Like a disco ball not many wanna brawl
Flint cells spark it well til ya thoughts swell
Got ya head spinnin' like a carousel
So it never fails silenced ya cartel
Once all hell breaks loose you choose?
Flatten ya caboose aint no **** truce
Once I flex the duece duece **** a loose goose
After I'm done I chunk up the duece
Then sit back & sip that Canadian mudded moose

My double o three fifty seven sending ****** like Bronson to heaven
Prefer Mack elevens blood stained veteran
From the pain held within' my war brethrens  
Never shed tears to the ears of fears
Drawn by an illusion broke the boostin'
Cuz I ain't use to loosin' cruisin'
Through enemies my way on the highway
Smoke the stickiest joints watch me anoint
From styles that point like a compass
Needle nose see how the magnet flow
Level ya degrees breezin' through the trees
Mother nature is a tease
Cure all diseases
Im raps remedy if you ain't a friend of me
Might as well become one with the cemetery
Minus the obituary fools hurry and worry
Haters say and pray that "the demons take you away"
But they get no say nay I'm all about the grey
Clouds speak loud when the Sunshine's not allowed
kirk Nov 2018
Fat arses are so squeezable, big bums I rather like
So amplify your cellulite, and step up to my mic
Pins may shake and quiver, if I can score a strike
A Fat **** has more stability, to park my mountain bike

You may prefer a slender girl, with a bottom that is sleek
And fatter girls are not for you, or not what you would seek
Some little arses can be cute, but I want that extra cheek
I need some chunky piece of ****, to reach my ****** peak

I don't want a boney lass, who wears a leather mini
A larger girl I'd rather have, than a woman that is skinny
Imagine a great big ****, bulging out from a tight pinny
Bear arses are acceptable, just look at that Pooh Winnie

Size twenty dress would be fine, but better times by four
With Something to grab hold of, that would thrill me even more
Bigger bums and fatter thighs, that take up the whole floor
Squelching fat I would enjoy, I don't want a thin girl cure

Thin sticks maybe preferable, those girls shaped like a rake
Stupid ****** I don't want, or **** that could be fake
Fat ladies have more bounce, and they will never brake
I don't mind some extra skin, that's sweating like Swan Lake

Larger woman are more fun, they have a wetter gape
There's more to love per square inch, WOW what a body shape
Smother me with all you've got, a complete body ****
I wouldn't be like Steve McQueen, and try The Great Escape

I'm interested in BIG thrills, but I don't want silk or lace
It's certainly a worthwhile trip, if it's shoved in the right place
Delving into the unknown, well I'm not sure that's the case
You know exactly what you'll get, with fat arses in your face

A nice thin *** is okay, but sometimes they're quite drab
Even if your figure's slim, I'd want more **** to grab
I'd rather have a bit more fat, which includes dimples and flab
If your offering your fat ****, call me a mini cab

Excursions during twilight hours, to avoid the daylight sun
I prefer to be in stealth, I'll be on the midnight run
It doesn't matter how large you are, even if you weight a ton
Fat arses I will always grab, now wouldn't that be fun

There's nothing wrong with pertness, so this I will announce
But doesn't a nice fat ****, have extra pounds per ounce
With more to grab and more to squeeze, and definitely more bounce
Big cats scratching for more meat, will always make me pounce

If you are not good looking, and you look like a pig
I'll forgo your outward looks, as long as you are big
Bare your *** in front of me, and give me the gig
You can reach your Top Gear, with a helmet like the Stig

With a *** like the Grand Canyon, I wouldn't want to pass
Mammoth mountains of pure fun, as i lay in the grass
A women laid across the world, with a big fat ****
I'd try extreme obesity, if it's open wide and sparse

So take advantage of me, and let your **** end loose
I'm a man who likes em big, without being too obtuse
Use your fat for basting, and I'll give your **** a goose
We could do well with a good game, according to old Bruce

You may like slimmer ladies, but come on now you gents
A bums a *** after all, so stop sitting in the fence
If you would try a fatter ****, you wouldn't be so tense
Don't be a ******* plonker, you know that it makes sense

Thinner lovers may change their mind, and not think fat is vile
It's just a different point of view, depends on your own style
For that deeper piece of crack, I'd go that extra mile
I don't think a fatter ****, is bottom of the pile

Maybe you don't share my views, but there's something I can teach
A plumper *** would be great, that is within your reach
Succulent cheeks that you can grasp, your hands could have one each
Even James gave it a go, because he had a Giant peach

The perspective of a chunky ****, an amazing smile and crack
That's the exciting view you'll get, when your stood round the back
Its great to feel you way around, when everything's pitch black
You'll find it an experience, if you are right on track

A nice *** I wouldn't mind, so come on where's your *****
Bigger cheeks I can't resist, theres no need to get me drunk
I wonder if the girl next door, has some lovely feeling chunk
Enticement is my spice of life, cos I'm not a ******* monk

To like a larger lady, well It's not classed as a sin
Shallow men may only like, a girl that's really thin
Just because our clientele, are not shaped like a pin
Fatter girls have twice to give, it's like loving the same twin

Some fellows might think I'm blind, and need a pair of glasses
You can leave the lights on, cos I don't think fat is classless
Flash your **** at the back door, and you won't get any passes
Tables and sofa's can be used, to display your great fat arses
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