Plea to the Condom
Fort pubic hair base–I salute you!
acid force thrust thrust hip thrust
dryhump dryhump dryhump
We can see the vagina ahead,
dear Christ!
And then warm wallet
pocket uterus birth!
You haven't expired yet?!
I AM NOT TRYING TO WAIT.
I AM TRYING TO FUCK HER.
Shiny three-ball red rocket plastic wrap with
the difficult serrated edge:
I love you for saving my finances
and testicles, but you must
open!
please,
please open.
open
goddamn you!
open!
three ball red ball plastic
wrap like weird candy.
gin-lined tongue, tobacco
tooth clench the corner
but the Main Rule:
don't let me kill the mood
with overzealousness
help me look boyishly charming or
she'll get dry and
I won't care! (DATE RAPE?!)
Trust my instincts, you little latex fuck.
Instinctfully rise to my occasion!
Slide in easy.
Give more than take.
And please,
please,
PLEASE
don't' break!
—
and a bonus poem:
Professor: “How Many Bitches Did Ernest Hemingway Fuck?”
Check Your Head
Oh, a bad word.
Do I eat the soap, now bitch?
Where's my fucking dunce cap?
Do I deserve an ass spanking?
Your tits look nice in that sweater, cunt.
Would it have been more appropriate to ask
“Had this man so many lovers?”
Am I the only in here who is stoned?
Am I the only one in here who wants my Christmas present early?
Am I the only one in here who wants it to be gin and dope?
And dope in my stocking!
Hold on, whore. Did I just smoke up?
Where are all the jewel thieves, nowadays?
Are my classmates looking at me?
Are they laughing or are they embarrassed?
And at that, where the fuck are my sunglasses?
Where are my fucking sunglasses you dumb slut?
Where are my fucking sunglasses you fat-labia-possessing, puss-filled cocksucker?!
Oh, right here.