Sunday, 17 April 2011

Burying the Bone

The proud young bitch must be adored
while panting in the sun;
So - admire the pelt in which she's pored
or she won't give you one.

She hides her pleasure's winning grace
for fear of noise - too much;
She wonders at your blood-red face
when cumming in her crutch.

And she likes long legs - so strong and smooth
for cellulite to cheat;
A nice tight cunt could so improve
her prestige on the street.

For she's loving gossip - such a lot -
'bout lads without their kits;
Oh! How she aches for well-filled twot;
comparing boyfriends' bits.

So, she hopes her arsecheeks aren't too big
when sat upon her thigh;
She loves those tits - so pert - to jig
and poke you in each eye.

And she's shaving armpits' fuzzy hair;
not liking her young sweat:
Bikini-line that's cut with care
to trap you in her net.

And that bulging stomach - she don't need -
for fear that blokes might mock;
Unhappy with her pussy's bleed
when stretched on some guy's cock.

Now! There's acned spots - that make her cross -
and hair that's dull 'n' lank;
But, youthful dogs don't give a toss
you are better than a wank!



Copyright © 2011 Frank TALKER. Permission granted to reproduce and distribute it in any format; provided that mention of the author’s Weblog (http://poetryftalker.blogspot.com/) is included: E-mail notification requested. All other rights reserved. Frank TALKER is also the author of Sweaty Socks: A Treatise on the Inevitability of Toe Jam in Hot Weather (East Cheam Press: Groper Books, 1997) and is University of Bullshit Professor Emeritus of Madeupology.

No comments: