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"girthy" poems
I can hear gulls squawking like catcallers in the streets of New York City but they're not talking to me, they're speaking to the ocean breeze. They'll be heading south soon. Fall is coming and you can taste it even in the August heat. I still have memories of childhood summers that lasted longer than some years recently. Can't help but think of the days I wasted worried about who I would be and now I'm someone sitting beneath a girthy oak tree wearing a collared button up that hangs on me a little too loosely. I don't know what that means but it may mean something to somebody else who writes love letters to life, that might just double as quiet cries for help in a world so high on noise it's forgotten poetry.
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Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Amittyville Harbor
Infatuation. It’s a girthy, 5-syllable word and you’re In a fat, juicy, situation. It’s a swollen, darkened fruit That begs to be taken completely, Flesh devoured entirely. But it’s a trap. The sweet and tangy blood of it That dribbles down your chin To your neck To your ******* To your heart To your stomach To your hips To your groin To your *** Down your thighs To your nervous toes Is not love. Nobody wants to hear that. But some day - If you are incredibly lucky - You will look at your maroon-stained palms And the dry, sticky rivers of years running down your wrists And laugh until you cry when you realize That you could wash your whole body Because love is not in the juice. It is not your addiction, Your summer picking, Your hungry belly, Your well of adrenaline, Your rushing of heartbeats, Your tangling of bodies, Your jealousy, yearning, Nor pride. If you are incredibly lucky You will suddenly know love. As silent, simple, and strong As the fabric of the universe itself.
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC
If You Are Incredibly Lucky
Remove your shirt And take my skirt Dancing ***** I bet Patrick's very girthy.
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 8:15 PM UTC
Baby
He was sheer cocked-up heaven Thick, veined, and born To rock my world to the core He had the most treasured Slithering snake I had ever seen It was impressive poetry To marvel at for days I was lost in the orbit Of his girthy, spectacular rod of pleasure Forgot my name the more he tamed My rainbow domain With his gangbuster treasure A masterpiece of hypnotic force That conquered my gayness That stretched into outer worlds Further than eternity Making my mouth water Leaving me breathless Obsessed with his mantasticness I surrendered to his seamless, relentless length Drowning in awe of his awesome sauce He was an immeasurable work Of delectable art made to be worshipped And stroked forever and a day I was entranced, deeply taken By his breathtaking masculinity Swept away by it all
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Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 10:20 AM UTC
I Surrendered To His Seamless, Relentless Length