29 Oct 2014, 12:00pm
Writing
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Stradivarius percussion

The world is hot
Been thinking about you with your bright shorts on
Leaning over
Singing to the ground
They’re red
Not fire-engine red but red-orange red
I have this color in my crayon box
It’s like tangerine but, only so many of you can have it

You’ve got balls too
I can tell by your pheromones
So do I
I shaved mine
They tickle the grass when I walk
Cuz I’m a tiny man
And the butt of an old joke

When Popeye saw the Sea Hag
Why did he not marry her
I keep thinking about that one episode
where Olive Oyl wants Bluto and Popeye to shave their beards
To be Clean shaven men
You can predict what happens next
She runs off with the most bearded guy imaginable

I like cocks and cunts
Tits and balls
Butts and legs
Feet
Hairy Armpits
Shaved ones too
I don’t like
Ugliness
Ugliness to me is
Mean spirited ness and ruthlessness
Spoiled rotten ness
Cutting down to size when you don’t have to
No one should be ashamed of their body

I point this out to my hairdresser
Who has a pair of sharp scissors in her hands
She says alright hun
I’ve been
Wanting to paint you up kabuki style
Pin you to the bedsheets

That’s a good confession I say
I feel my balls start to tighten

I am in love

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