"jockstrap" poems
He thwack no metronome to kick oneself
Thwack his **** sucker
With his monolithic flaccid trunk rubber
Me and my Dalek doped
And my excrement unsweetened
Copulate in the open without my jockstrap
You shat encrusted to what you deflowered
So at arm’s length ****** from all that we excreted in the wind’s eye
And I bounce a bedevilled backwash
My incredibles are shafted
I’ll **** **** to Arab
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
I **** **** to myself
I ****** you powerfully
The body beautiful’s not enough to go round
You enjoy spanking and I wallow in *********
And ***** is like a tobacco teabag
And I’m a bijou **** coming the corsets in custody
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab
I **** **** to…
I **** **** to…
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** **** to her
And I **** **** to Arab
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were opening one's lips so gorgeous and so creamy
greasing me stamen on the unfucked bonk
while the bangers let it rip in the alley
Those were the diseased minds and that was Newfangled York
we were squirting for the wads and the meatballs
and that was gobbled snog for the creamers inside Gloria
centrifugally stiff is thus those of White House Nazis
Ah but you copulated telescopic didn't you basket case
you just acidified your jockstrap on the shoulders of the scrum
you copulated telescopic I never once heard you use sign language
I input you, I don't intake you
I input you, I don't intake you
and all of that balling hard on
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were gorilla—like your ****** *********** was absolute epic
you leaked me again you frocked slap—up old salt
but for me you would **** an unzipping
And shaving your tongue because the creatures lust after us
who are barked at by the Daleks of *** appeal
you Rohypnolled yourself you emitted jet so what?
we are radioactive salvo we shoot full of holes the stride piano
*** one fine morning you copulated telescopic didn't you cocker
you just blunted your extremity on the cattle
you copulated telescopic I never once smelled you emit
I intake you, I don't input you
I intake you, I don't input you
and all of that balling hard on
I don't mean to insinuate that I slobbered over you peanuts
I can't withhold *********** of each crouched ****
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
that's oodles I don't even kick—start you that thick and fast
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
within Zieglerville, pennsylvania
genuine snow white hair
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private)
after i croon (to said lass),
the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission
perchance twill be doomed from the start,
and hence finding me forlorn
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure,
would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness),
aye also resort to buttress
any aural "stormy Dani yelling)
via walled in interlap,
which accouterment functions
as a double agent i.e. (or,
to be rather crude),
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news
inducing madcap
mass media circus
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap
essentially providing wig gull room
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap
pill low ma rendered free and clear
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms
most likely something internuclear
simply to discover visa vis authenticity
if cute employee
(sporting hair
white as the ****** snow),
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited
all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Worry me not because of hazel eyes
Pity me not for transient hands, a transient romance
Pity those who live with a million backs,
Thinking as though they have selection
Merely selections, selections A plethora
No one wants, no one, mark my words
Genuinely wants to **** a ***** ball sack
Whimsical and flying, a absent look across your pasty face
Intrusive eyes tracing, your snotty nose across that silly face
That silly face you make, lazy used *****
Exercise a little more, won't you?
You're the one who believes he has an ocean
No ocean, no
A little cradle of girls with crumpled hearts
and slits on their embalmed pasties.
I'm disgusted, disgusted, disgusted by these sweaty ball sacks
Arrogance in their snorts, farts and living as though they can be
they can be disgusting, nauseating, revoltingly HUMAN
While I must adorn a satin sleek smile
Hairless ivory and flowery areolas
The ice cool temper of no wavering, no moving forward
Why must I be polished and pretty
Why must I put my soft palate against your sweaty naked jockstrap
Why must I let you crush my skull with your meaty, hairy presence
Choking my throat with disgusting salami of 18 years too late
Am I expected to smile and compliment you for this catastrophe?
No, worry me not that Hazel eyes no longer trace me
Pity me Not that I do not have meaty hands torturing my skull
Feel my liberation in your cold sock of cries.
**** **** **** you!
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
It was a regular night
Trying out a new bar
And something new here
Not like the others are;
There were dancers now
And under the new law
They were naked and I
Could not believe when I saw.
It was dark in that bar
That magical night
But I swear I saw some
Flashing colored lights.
Later the dancer said
There was just a baby spot
But that is not what
My greedy eye caught.
I saw rainbows and then
The moonbeams started.
My enthusiasm and acceptance
Was completely wholehearted.
Nothing like that evening
Had ever happened before
And it was just going to be
Impossible to ignore.
A naive boy from Missouri,
A small city kind of hick
I was told the big city would
Harm me, make me sick.
Well, kinfolk if this is sickness
Then pour me another shot
Because life back home was sad
And this most certainly is not!
The music was throbbing
And parts of me were too.
This experience of experiencing
Was absolutely new.
I felt it was a turning point
In my formerly humdrum life
And the sexuality in this place
Could be sawed up with a knife.
The audience and the dancers
Were here to have **** fun
And the evening’s entertainment
Had only just begun.
I watched guys putting dollars
Into the dancer’s hand.
After all he wore nothing,
Not even a jockstrap band.
That evening I left there
A bunch of dollars gone
And I vowed to return there
Very often from now on.
Later my favorite dancer
Move in with me for a while.
It has been forty years now
And thinking of then, I smile.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 2:00 AM UTC