Poem of Love, Lust, and Growing


Who be dat hoe?
You be dat hoe.
But I keep mah pants awn
Pants awn the ground

Picked 'em up,
get fucked up.
Double D cups
motorboat dem tingz.

Motorboat road trip with your friends and relatives.
Oh okay I'll pack my bag right now.
Time to get up and personal with your mother's virtual vagina
fwap fwap fwap
Fwap until you start a genocide on all the sperm in your testicles.

But it's okay, you're getting old
and your dick's made of gold.
At least that's what I'm told.
I bet it gets really cold.

When it's not in it's pussy cocoon
Boom boom bomo
Bed makes a lot of noises because the springs are old.
Like a threatening monsoon.

As you cum everywhere
it dyes your hair.
What a zesty love affair;
torn up torrid love affair.

Horrid like a whore, sexy like a stripper
Rough and romantic.

Your ass is like the moon:
covered in craters and a primary source of cheese.
So many things to explore
you never know who'll be knocking at your door.

An androgynous figure wounded from a pit bull attack
Blood runs down creating a rainbow of past encounters with the devil.
You avert your skepticism
and steal the hearts of everyone around you thanks to your kleptomaniacism.

You see silhouettes of seagulls on lampposts at dawn and think
where have the drugs taken me?
I can't stop thinking of you as I melt into the ground.

By: Xesetarip and Izanrelur


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