book club

i have a one track mind.
perverted to say the least.
from the knock on the door
he invited himself in.
sat in the dog’s favorite chair.
put his pistol on my lips
and pulled my ears.
“why you always writing poems
about sucking dick,” he asked.
“have you read tossed salad?”
i replied.
i fantasize chubby thighs
and sensitive.
he peaked my interest.
i passed him my medicine.
loosened my belt and
wrote another best seller.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s