She slid into bed next to
me, she threw her tan
long, tan legs over
mine and said:
“F_ck me, please.”
I kissed her mouth.
Our tongues twisted,
I tasted her mouth, it
had a cherry sherbert
flavor, she smiled as
we broke the kiss
her black curls
shimmering in the
sun.
I grabbed one big,
ripe breast, and teasing
and took the nipple
full into my mouth.
It hardened instantly,
she moaned with
passion, her smooth
legs rubbing mine.
She grabbed my dick,
and my hand slid
down to her wet mound,
she squeezed my swollen
penis up to her breast
and began to rub it.
I stroked her mound,
kneading her clit, the moans
as we came, the milky
semen squirting on her dark
nipple.
She smiled.
“We held each other
close, I stroked her ample
buttocks. When it was
time, she rolled over,
and I entered her from
behind.
Bye, Bye
miss American Pie,
Took the Chevy to the levee,
But the levee went dry,
The good old boys were
drinking Whiskey & rye,
& Singing
This’ll be the day that I die,
The day the music died
On the Beach
Why am I here?
To get a tan?
To praise the sun?
Or the scratchy sand
that beneath buttocks.
Or to praise the waves?
Or write ocean-polluted
poetry of overburden,
Ridden by copper-tanned
Straddling saddles
Of fiberglass.
The sand is strewn
with celluloid debris
sacrificing write-ups
to the sunless sky,
Wall to wall people,
Waves of flesh against
waves of water,
American music
from transistor radios,
And all the sand, sky
and celluloid are one,
The Beach.
Cat Stevens, whats happened to you
where have you gone
To the faith of old Islam.
Life could be a Sci-Fi novel
Ads praising toilet paper
like the messiah,
Phallic ships soaring to the moon,
Or to deliver atomic death,
Couch potatoes collect radiation
from their TV sets,
While models collect
cash for their printed
photons.
They glorify themselves
In their stinkin’ tobacco
and cheap cheapo.
Heat is the sponge that soaks
up hope. It burns, heats
and melts, dragging away life,
sucking like an infant’s mouth
upon the nipple of life.
When do you kill?
you fill the drainage
ditch with bodies,
To satisfy you lust,
Cravings of your
mad gods.
But do the gods listen,
or do they simply float
away,
On a cloud or non-existence
You make the world stink
with the stench of burning
flesh body,
But only the youth, children
die.
They say that your gods
are the worst.
But I think not.
You sacrifice fourteen,
But ten million die for
the Power.
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