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Xilhouette Jan 2011
On a tall glass
In quite a generous mass
Cold and fluffy,
Yet  somehow warm and puffy
Some praline, and nuts
With fresh banana cuts

Sensationally sweet,
Capable of a marvelous feat
of filling a stranger full
Otherwise, he won't be in a mull
Or in a daze
Just take a look at him in that sugared haze

Whether it's strawberry or mango
Or an orange doing the tango
I'd just like to add
That we like to go mad
Or we'd go for a scream
Over something cold, called: ice cream
Xilhouette © 2011
Third Eye Candy Mar 2013
you are the light at the end of a tendril. a spindle of dread, woven in caustic guile of argyle
parallelograms...phantom realms of solid waste. you are the pin in the subject. gating satan through a thimble
of crocodile tears, the new symbol.
the rude glyph in black bibles and strong drink, en-kindling the dead. rodents ponzi the scheme
of hell’s maze, with lies...your lies...
you have  eyes that  lead aside from your heart’s plot
you are saboteur. banal.
unrestrained waste. you are the fin in the barracuda puppet, grazing the wrist of Dim Henson
huffing crystal gorillas in the congo of your foyer
you are
the black chandelier.

teach me your cheap trick
striking off ‘ iron-on’  pinkie swears
your praline heresies... your  ‘ no remorse’    code
lay bare to me.

better my better angels,  to fathom the loathsome ****
of your actual mind. keep me abreast of your wretched games...
apply the rod of your wrong  love, above all.... you must betray.
you must know in your fetid rot
of a third eye... the phlegm genius of **** blindness.... teach me the rictus of
cold hearted.  a false god in my lotus !

spare me the chaste suzette
flip me the ***** that spits fables.
learn me the savage puns
to pummel you         sustaining your worst done.
grant me the lethal beans for my sacred cow
trade me the idylls of your forked heart
for your crushed null
and crossed
bones.
Aditi Kumar May 2016
Of that cold spring day when our hands froze
Clutching cones of your favorite strawberry ice cream

Of the following warm summer day when my favorite
Chocolate ice cream coated our tongues

Of that day we escaped our classes
And found ourselves held captive
By the soft cherry ice
With nuts on top

Of bubblegum sonnets, of almond praline declarations of love
Of fig and honey serenades
With soft coffee angels singing in the back
And cookie cream cherubs whispering in our ears.

Of the best first taste.

Of the worst last lick.
I will never forget the person who taught me to see life beyond just Nutella ice cream; to explore all the flavors of the world.
A J Ward Nov 2010
Sickly, sticky-sweet syrup
oozes into our minds,
unbeknownst to us, so vulnerable.
We are painted the perfect picture,
sneak peaks of Utopia;
and are kept locked away by a camera lens.
Agonised and deliberated over,
by those who seek a fairy tale to repair a torn away heart.

Take a Lollipop with a wink,
Break up those four letters
and attack them with a recipe preached by idols,
two spoonfuls of lust,
a pinch of promiscuity,
and, (if you're really ravenous,)
finish with a sprinkle with insatiability.
Greedily we gluttonous Gannets
eat and eat and eat,
until the idea of right and wrong flies off the end of the scales.

Discover me using your own map;
And pick me,
and make me your favourite chocolate,
Throw away the box.
I'll be your smooth praline,
your sweet Turkish delight,
your bitter liqueur
all in one bite.

Love me: Dust me in a gentle coating of sugar.
Don't drown me in treacle.
Enjoy me: Dip me in dark chocolate.
No need to top me with whipped cream.
usagi Feb 2021
you're a salty and sweet dream
praline and cream
Take care of yourself by choosing to heal
and stop desperately searching for missing links.
It’s okay to finally open the gates and let yourself feel
because loving yourself might be easier than you think.

Cook yourself your all-time favorite meal
or spend the extra twenty minutes soaking in the bathtub.
Paint your nails your favorite shade of teal
and start building your collection of movie ticket stubs.

Run in the neighborhood until your legs start shaking,
jam out to Brian May’s guitar and Freddie Mercury’s voice,
or dive into a Nicholas Sparks novel so heartbreaking
that it almost makes you wonder if you made the right choice.

Let people in without worrying about when they’ll leave
and laugh without hesitation and smile like never before.
Make an appointment for an addition to that tattoo sleeve
and plan a weekend getaway to the nearest sea shore.

Catch up on your favorite television shows
while holding a pint of Pecan Praline Ice Cream.
Dance with strangers until all of the bars close
with tequila pulsing through your bloodstream.

The beauty behind self-nurture and self-care
is that you end up pulling happiness from within.
At the end of the day, instead of seeking comfort elsewhere,
you’ll finally feel loved and be comfortable in your own skin.
Herb Apr 2019
Chocolate covered trumpets
Played by Cotton Candy boys
And clarinets dipped in caramel
Make a sweet and sticky noise

There's a parade today in Toffeetown
Praline Street has been cleared
The Bubble Gum Band marches past
As the Root Beer Float draws near

Here is the Candy Apple Cadillac
The Grand Marshall in the back seat
He's waving and throwing out peppermints
Which land at the onlookers feet

The weather could not be more yummy
Warmed by a Creamsicle Sun
Praise God, the clouds are not raining
Or the Queen's Taffy Taffeta would run

And look!  It's the Toffeetown Pep Squad
So funny as they dance, prance, and sing
Performing fantastic maneuvers
On a Cream Pie Trampoline

And now the festivities are ending
The street littered with gum drops and cake
The Jelly Jam Janitor starts sweeping
He'll throw the leftovers in Marzipan Lake

But a great time was had by all
Parades are a lovely invention
Now Toffeetown must prepare
For next week's Dental Convention
Ottar Feb 2015
Hearing plugged with fingers,
sounds
still spill
into a skull bowl
full of salt and water,
saline, what can one crave,
praline robed in dark chocolate,
the last light and frivolous thought had,

two
orbs glazed,
Signals phased,
body of
piece work,
mind over matters
most,
flashing, all the colour,
then comes the red,
then comes the green,
                                seen in observed beauty,
then comes the black,
then comes the white,
fading like the night,
to remember...

The first time of everything
Oh
and just remember the scents
and tastes
touch
Tammy Boehm Sep 2014
You were my quiet chaos
Calm storm in the heart of a girl
You led me skittish
Ungainly beautiful
Like a newborn fawn for you
Lose me in this wilderness
Reminisce that kiss
Lips parted never met
Would you have lingered
Hot and sweet in my mouth
Like green chile praline brittle
Your idiot savant I played
serious for you
Danced in my dreams to your beat
stacatto pulse alone together
But like real magic
You disappeared
Rumors of you
Sleeping under your daddy's truck
same jeans and tees
worn at the knees
Curls tangled around your face
Your eyes that fevered chill
Where earth...
and stars...
and forever collide
I could see beyond infinity
Yet you'd look at me
Soul empty the well dry
was it the ****, the speed or the need
Casual intimacies
I was totally partial to you
Wild inside but you never knew
Left me parched in the pouring rain
The last day
Breath on my cheek
Words you didn't speak
My skin craves you hugging me fierce
Dreams broken they slip away
Aching for a second chance
Stinging question lingers in my brain
Will you kiss me
You'll never ask again...
TL Boehm
091409
for Chris Martinez
Chris was a drummer in HS. He was a reclassified senior and I was a junior. We recruited him into our "garage band that never was" only to find that he was pretty much "gone" for all his talent. He dropped out of school and broke my little cheesy heart. He asked me to kiss him once. I told him no....end of story...
Kevin May 2017
Deep in Mangroves of Calusa
Your eyes became arrows of the natives
We made whirlpools with the wind
Chasing sea cows for their breath.

Your thighs felt like my bounty
The curve of your spine was ethereal
In cut off jean shorts, wet from dripping paddles,
Each drop teased in me a feast for carnal cravings.

Your memory wears a dress of palms,
Resting beneath your delicate waist
Your face looks like porcelain beneath
My gifted crown of magnolia and jasmine

I can feel the rain that's filled with sunshine
When you speak, I hear सौन्दर्यलहरी.
Slowly, surely, your words and eyes
Send vibrations like पार्वती
*.

I surrendered to your storm
I laid **** and prayed to be spared
I could not contain your tremendous terror
I could only surrender and offer my obsessive praise

There's an island in Calusa that rests beneath our stars
Where your quiver remains full with the bluest of arrows
I still can feel your words as Waves of Beauty
I still can taste your skin of Praline and Coconut

My hunger for your thighs and spine of sweeping curves
Did not die when your tropical storm had passed
Or when your native arrows dissolved within my chest,
I am starving, a castaway, without your love storm near.
* Soundarya Lahari-Waves of Beauty
** Parvati- Hindu goddess of many things. love, devotion, divine  strength and power, and fertility.
☒ Give to me the possession of my hormones back for full absorption*
☒ as I'm keen on resuming the bony splinter means of bone resorption
☒ while admixed by neo-commixed protocols of bio-ecleptic sorption
☒ Let's stomp sun-burnt faces 'cause J. Edgar Hoover was the riddled
☒ manufacturer of Malcolm X from a ***** mulatto known by Little
☒ who scrounged while Jersey burned its cheap, girly skirts for a tittle
☒ Marilyn Monroe was like a door **** because everyone got a turn:
☒ spooks, gay wops, greasers & tunnel bums who were keen to learn,
☒ even day laborers, migrant fruit pickers & coal miners eager to earn
☒ as Marilyn's 'scribed tranquilizer regimen was of no mortal concern
☒ 'cause it was Norma Jean's lithium intake that no one could discern
☒ anymore than the Unabomber's gripes seen by Alexander Cockburn
☒ or the clinically-constipated pretentiousness of nut-job Bruce Dern
☒ who holds far less star appeal than a gator-****-covered swamp fern
☒ or a petit jury of unscrubbed, chitlin'-lovin' nitwits about to adjourn
☒ into the night life of ******, their ponces and mamas horridly stern
☒ who were evicted by the Empire Hotel Group of the Hotel Lucerne
☒ whereat a politico can parlay sick-leave *** with a volunteer intern,
☒ in a meeting room spread eagle on **** carpet near a V.F.W. lectern
☒ for a thrilling roll of tattooed *** wiggle, tanned hip swish & churn
☒ Thiomersal makes serums kick ***, so we'll long for what we yearn
☒ to eat doves, hawks, wrens, rooks, robins & the greater crested tern
☒ Merck adds the blood of rabbits to their notorious M.M.R. vaccine
☒ to proliferate superior mutant strains that filtrate foggy brains clean
☒ Patients are murdered in hospitals for their kidneys, lungs & organs
☒ Do not cry over spilt milk nor over the disarmed Aussies poor guns
☒ 'cause switched ships Titanic & Olympic were banker J.P. Morgan's
☒ The P.M. didn't expose insurance fraud for fear of losing war funds
☒ The power to tax involves the power to destroy is heavy and taxing
☒ as it wanes menstrually when it is not in the seventh house waxing,
☒ or naked in a river with water moccasins, gators & pirañas relaxing
☒ as redacted facsimiles of pentagonal papers have militarians faxing
☒ about whether Check 'n Go offers the best 3rd-party-check-cashing
☒ while our children are dulled by prescription tranquilizer dopamine
☒ they are concurrently spazzed by that genic stimulant amphetamine
☒ which was pharmaceutically pedalled by allopathists as benzedrine
☒ that's able to hyper-stimulate a brain faster than a ten-pound praline
☒ while sickening patients via rashes of neuro-transmitting histamine
☒ A superior knowledge must be properly applied to equate to power
☒ from a Jehovah's Witness Kingdom Hall or Pentecostal ivory tower
☒ below which poor people must be transfixed into a cowardly cower
☒ whilst stupefied by the oily patter of tele-prompted twit Matt Lauer
☒ who graduated from imbecile of the minute to retardate of the hour
☒ He got this way by substituting saw dust for desiccated wheat flour
☒ while denigrating Ike's warning against the militarists we empower
☒ I suspected that the stinking ****** I grew up with wasn't a brother
☒ till the program for adoptees: Look Dumb-***, I Ain't Your Mother!
☒ School-gun-free-zone laws force armed criminals to finally disarm
☒ in gun-free zones to protect our children from armed-criminal harm
☒ as no one need fear for in each school there's a regulation fire alarm
☒ plus in every home-room there's a martial-arts-trained school marm
☒ and if her tae kwon do fails she'll lure from him his gun with charm
☒ as she's a **** gal even though she was raised on a Wisconsin farm
☒ O Lord God have mercy to steer a misplaced/misdirected gratitude
☒ to a septicemic pit that'll sanitarily coax hyper-stimulated negritude
☒ what'll ablate pained receptors spun into a dextro-rotational attitude
☒ coursing towards 1 dizzy patter replenishing whomsoever'll delude
☒ the framed, gullible men & clothes-racked naturalists who sun ****
☒ 100% cocksure to stymie church with a girlified/glorified interlude
☒ before the bank of God files this in suit, the way it wants to be sued
☒ or epoxied, affixed, pasted, joined, stuck, adhered, taped and glued
☒ onto pages of doggerel verse that's shockingly & mockingly shrewd
☒ while an edibly-ripe tomato's rendered unpalatable as it was stewed
☒ for a *******-tight ***** forcefully torqued cracks tightly *******
☒ falling from the stitched mouths of dowagers bitten off half chewed
☒ From Hibernia to Albion, Scotsmen hang martyrs from an oak rood
☒ as pleated t'ings Scottish are sorely transfixed & rough-hewn crude  
☒ where Wales' women decry a Holyheaded Welshman miner's mood
☒ that's digested like lamb lobscouse stew which's St. Helens #1 food
☒ pushing Brixton's Jamaican monkeys into a quasi-Rastafarian feud
☒ Out of the blue you rained on me saturating this prosthetic left knee
☒ I should've shot you in the neck before you pushed me out of a tree
☒ I can't cover my bald head unless somebody sells me a wig for free
☒ From a boat it's good to hurl & ***** 'cause it's fish food in the sea
☒ as rancid crap dumped overboard makes for delicious salt-water tea
☒ the type preferred by the vampiress Liz: Romanian quean of misery
☒ & ma to the wing-eared-imbecilic Chucky mate to mammy Cammy
☒ in full glory, in casual shift that is provocatively low-cut and flimsy
☒ Albanian maniac = Albaniac from under & off a Penn Central track
☒ Romanian  maniac = Romaniac no matter the ooze of angled crack
☒ that will trump disease by scarfing red-peppered cole slaw cabbage
☒ so as to avert pelvic-girdle bruising plus sudden high-thigh damage
☒ Conventions banning torture are seen by State eugenicists as quaint
☒ because botulism makes not a crone seem no younger than she ain't
☒ In circles dark chronic emphysema is a darkly chronicled complaint
☒ soon as you thunk no violation too vile could make Liz queen faint
☒ on the decks of slaughter-ships finished in super polymerized paint
☒ **** no stick to monarchical petticoats while the shell rots of a saint
☒ where no sodium fluoridated water can pineal gland ******* & taint
☒ as no lardy laird shall see redress from Marxian Scotland's restraint
☒ Dominican man-eaters wolf almond brother & nephew sandwiches
☒ over the shrill hue & cry of black, barren, hog-shaped Indio *******
☒ whose godless zombie voodoo chants prohibit hiking furry britches
☒ even though hairy pants are the #1 thing that negresses know itches
☒ all students at Lee Harvey Oswald's C.I.A. college of patsy snitches
*☒ where marksmen and sharp-shooters exhibit shaking-palsy twitches
Napolis Jan 2019
Playing hide

and go seek

under the

covers

with our

birthday

suits on.


praline and cream

ice cream

melting

down the

inside

of your

thighs.


our games

together

are always

playful

and basked

in cardinal

innocence...


and though

morning

will surely

find

us...


we still

hide from

it too...


heart beats

racing

to beat

the dawn...
Napolis Jan 2019
playing hide

and go seek

under the

covers

with our

birthday

suits on.



praline and cream

ice cream

melting

down the

inside

of your

thighs.



our games

together

are always

playful

and basked

in cardinal

innocence...



and though

morning

will surely

find

us...



we still

hide from

it too...



heart beats

racing

to beat

the dawn...
what blue sage leaves are
honeysuckle flowers are
praline, very sweet
the boy scout in you died
when you were 16.
the creatures of the wilderness
of the brush and bramble
the mountains and basins
held vigil at the low-lying ranch with its
wide-brimmed eaves casting shadows
on the lake in the evening light
the viper slithered solemn
the mockingbird warbled wistful
the frog croaked creaky
the monarch flittered fretful

i couldn’t care the way you did
you wanted that freedom because
you were never afforded it
not by the crucifix nor your family
you wanted to be able to go
anywhere, anytime, at your own will
so you logged your 30 hours,
did the lessons
you earned your freedom

i wonder if you’re a good driver:
if you shout and swear like my parents
when cut off on the freeway
or if road rage takes a backseat
to the sheer pleasure of coasting on
highways and night air
breathing syncopated
with your heart beating in 6/8

i want to be in your shotgun seat
no maps, i want to get lost with you
miles? we’ll quantify distance with time:
five hours in any direction,
smug with the knowing that
wherever we’ll end up
texas’s blazing lone star
will still shine overhead

sheaves of hallowed rays gathered
like threshed wheat
sun biting the rolling golden plains
of our faces, mother of pearl spittle
dribbling from my lips in ecstasy
(i could never stop drooling
while napping)
an almost imperceptible
etch-a-sketch grin
betraying your apparent enjoyment

i imagine you splayed on
limestone and shale
toes tickled by mountain water
or balancing on the bow-legged
boughs of some mighty fallen oak
swollen strawberries skinny dipped in
marshmallow fluff
blistering over open fire
mottled black and praline brown
sticky chocolate between our fingers
all in our very own golden afternoon

i imagine your lips on mine in a
humid school locker room
choking back bile and something else
as i succumb to your gnawing
an indomitable wildness emanating
from my skin, fierce, foreign, fickle
like the stubborn shimmer of pollen
caked on my leaden eyelids

i imagine your neck making
sweet amends with mine
carotid against carotid,
lifeline on lifeline
tracing cherry-red capillaries
with fingers that could speak to wood
protruding from carpenter’s palms
soft and creased like origami cranes

the little love you can spare me
broils me alive
what bitterness in my bone marrow
maillard-sweetened as the days pass
burn fast, burn bright kindling
summer eats me alive and it's glorious

i imagine that you fight for this
(because i refuse to fight any longer
for a love that i'll never receive)

your mirth, you sacrificed
in the name of growing up
because you knew **** well
that with happiness came
the certain promise of pain
the boy scout's compass,
the adventure, the calling,
tucked away neatly in a box
and traded for more classes,
extracurriculars, exams,
time spent withering behind screens
more, more, more, something, anything,
to plug the gaps and fix the leaks
because things are better this way, right?
you don't stop because running towards
the unreachable is familiar, comforting

my mother can attest to the fact
that i have no sense of direction
but my heart has always
stood strong and pointed true
i will be your due north, your polaris,
with a quiet majesty rivalling a
thousand sunsets and moonrises
bearing sharp as the bite of june
asphalt on the bare soles of feet

still, even below our tie-dye sky
we found even darker corners
to sequester ourselves in
when threatened with the
possibility of light

i want to share milkshakes with you
in red-white checkerboard-clad diners

i want to stargaze among bluebonnets
the breath of the creek thick in the air

i want to bake cookies upon cookies
until you are fragrant with chocolate and toffee

i want...i want...
Napolis Dec 2018
our first

kiss consumed

by it all.



the yearning

the revealing

of our

naked

flesh to

one another.



the taste of

our wet

bodies

opening and

receiving

one another.



the giving

of seeds

in deep

passion.



ice cream

splashes

still one

your lips

from the

night before

I gratefully

lick

them from

your face.



rainbow sherbet

here

praline and

pecan there,



nothing has

ever tasted

sweeter.



in this

moment

when no one else

can enter

where only

love can

find us.



when everyone else

is just

a bad

memory

in your

eyes.

that in

time

will soon

be forgotten.
☒ Give to me the possession of my hormones back for full absorption
☒ as I'm keen on resuming the bony splinter means of bone resorption
☒ while admixed by neo-commixed protocols of bio-ecleptic sorption
☒ Let's stomp sun-burnt faces 'cause J. Edgar Hoover was the riddled
☒ manufacturer of Malcolm X from a ***** mulatto known by Little
☒ who scrounged while Jersey burned its cheap, girly skirts for a tittle
☒ Marilyn Monroe was like a door **** because everyone got a turn:
☒ spooks, gay wops, greasers & tunnel bums who were keen to learn,
☒ even day laborers, migrant fruit pickers & coal miners eager to earn
☒ as Marilyn's 'scribed tranquilizer regimen was of no mortal concern
☒ 'cause it was Norma Jean's lithium intake that no one could discern
☒ anymore than the Unabomber's gripes seen by Alexander Cockburn
☒ or the clinically-constipated pretentiousness of nut-job Bruce Dern
☒ who holds far less star appeal than a gator-****-covered swamp fern
☒ or a petit jury of unscrubbed, chitlin'-lovin' nitwits about to adjourn
☒ into the night life of ******, their ponces and mamas horridly stern
☒ who were evicted by the Empire Hotel Group of the Hotel Lucerne
☒ whereat a politico can parlay sick-leave *** with a volunteer intern,
☒ in a meeting room spread eagle on **** carpet near a V.F.W. lectern
☒ for a thrilling roll of tattooed *** wiggle, tanned hip swish & churn
☒ Thiomersal makes serums kick ***, so we'll long for what we yearn
☒ to eat doves, hawks, wrens, rooks, robins & the greater crested tern
☒ Merck adds the blood of rabbits to their notorious M.M.R. vaccine
☒ to proliferate superior mutant strains that filtrate foggy brains clean
☒ Patients are murdered in hospitals for their kidneys, lungs & organs
☒ Do not cry over spilt milk nor over the disarmed Aussies poor guns
☒ 'cause switched ships Titanic & Olympic were banker J.P. Morgan's
☒ The P.M. didn't expose insurance fraud for fear of losing war funds
☒ The power to tax involves the power to destroy is heavy and taxing
☒ as it wanes menstrually when it is not in the seventh house waxing,
☒ or naked in a river with water moccasins, gators & pirañas relaxing
☒ as redacted facsimiles of pentagonal papers have militarians faxing
☒ about whether Check 'n Go offers the best 3rd-party-check-cashing
☒ while our children are dulled by prescription tranquilizer dopamine
☒ they are concurrently spazzed by that genic stimulant amphetamine
☒ which was pharmaceutically pedalled by allopathists as benzedrine
☒ that's able to hyper-stimulate a brain faster than a ten-pound praline
☒ while sickening patients via rashes of neuro-transmitting histamine
☒ A superior knowledge must be properly applied to equate to power
☒ from a Jehovah's Witness Kingdom Hall or Pentecostal ivory tower
☒ below which poor people must be transfixed into a cowardly cower
☒ whilst stupefied by the oily patter of tele-prompted twit Matt Lauer
☒ who graduated from imbecile of the minute to retardate of the hour
☒ He got this way by substituting saw dust for desiccated wheat flour
☒ while denigrating Ike's warning against the militarists we empower
☒ I suspected that the stinking ****** I grew up with wasn't a brother
☒ till the program for adoptees: Look Dumb-***, I Ain't Your Mother!
☒ School-gun-free-zone laws force armed criminals to finally disarm
☒ in gun-free zones to protect our children from armed-criminal harm
☒ as no one need fear for in each school there's a regulation fire alarm
☒ plus in every home-room there's a martial-arts-trained school marm
☒ and if her tae kwon do fails she'll lure from him his gun with charm
☒ as she's a **** gal even though she was raised on a Wisconsin farm
☒ O Lord God have mercy to steer a misplaced/misdirected gratitude
☒ to a septicemic pit that'll sanitarily coax hyper-stimulated negritude
☒ what'll ablate pained receptors spun into a dextro-rotational attitude
☒ coursing towards 1 dizzy patter replenishing whomsoever'll delude
☒ the framed, gullible men & clothes-racked naturalists who sun ****
☒ 100% cocksure to stymie church with a girlified/glorified interlude
☒ before the bank of God files this in suit, the way it wants to be sued
☒ or epoxied, affixed, pasted, joined, stuck, adhered, taped and glued
☒ onto pages of doggerel verse that's shockingly & mockingly shrewd
☒ while an edibly-ripe tomato's rendered unpalatable as it was stewed
☒ for a *******-tight ***** forcefully torqued cracks tightly *******
☒ falling from the stitched mouths of dowagers bitten off half chewed
☒ From Hibernia to Albion, Scotsmen hang martyrs from an oak rood
☒ as pleated t'ings Scottish are sorely transfixed & rough-hewn crude
☒ where Wales' women decry a Holyheaded Welshman miner's mood
☒ that's digested like lamb lobscouse stew which's St. Helens #1 food
☒ pushing Brixton's Jamaican monkeys into a quasi-Rastafarian feud
☒ Out of the blue you rained on me saturating this prosthetic left knee
☒ I should've shot you in the neck before you pushed me out of a tree
☒ I can't cover my bald head unless somebody sells me a wig for free
☒ From a boat it's good to hurl & ***** 'cause it's fish food in the sea
☒ as rancid crap dumped overboard makes for delicious salt-water tea
☒ the type preferred by the vampiress Liz: Romanian quean of misery
☒ & ma to the wing-eared-imbecilic Chucky mate to mammy Cammy
☒ in full glory, in casual shift that is provocatively low-cut and flimsy
☒ Albanian maniac = Albaniac from under & off a Penn Central track
☒ Romanian maniac = Romaniac no matter the ooze of angled crack
☒ that will trump disease by scarfing red-peppered cole slaw cabbage
☒ so as to avert pelvic-girdle bruising plus sudden high-thigh damage
☒ Conventions banning torture are seen by State eugenicists as quaint
☒ because botulism makes not a crone seem no younger than she ain't
☒ In circles dark chronic emphysema is a darkly chronicled complaint
☒ soon as you thunk no violation too vile could make Liz queen faint
☒ on the decks of slaughter-ships finished in super polymerized paint
☒ **** no stick to monarchical petticoats while the shell rots of a saint
☒ where no sodium fluoridated water can pineal gland ******* & taint
☒ as no lardy laird shall see redress from Marxian Scotland's restraint
☒ Dominican man-eaters wolf almond brother & nephew sandwiches
☒ over the shrill hue & cry of black, barren, hog-shaped Indio *******
☒ whose godless zombie voodoo chants prohibit hiking furry britches
☒ even though hairy pants are the #1 thing that negresses know itches
☒ all students at Lee Harvey Oswald's C.I.A. college of patsy snitches
☒ where marksmen and sharp-shooters exhibit shaking-palsy twitches
Aditya Roy Mar 2020
Let it sink in
I don't want your love
Watched too closely
But, I want to hear your voice
To ask why or what
When the time was right
You asked how did I hide my love away
When I loved your soul

Heroine of love
Eros of mulled wine
Catullus 64
All lie on the praline ice cream
She is a dessert bowl
I could eat out of her
And still enjoy poetry
Drink from her folly

— The End —