The Words That Dance Out of Your Mouth.

The advert says per, per, per, pick up a penguin,

but when I ber, ber, begin to per, per, pick up a pen

my plans stutter and splutter

from the words that dance out of your mouth:

“Are you writing a poem?”

you ask and instead of basking in your asking

and interest I become distressed.

A per, per, per, poem?

I then think and sink in the expectation

of what a poem is and what creates the greats.

Ovid when in love, Lord above,

what a slut.

He builds up his emotions and desires,

purging the truths of his loins and fires

only to turn and burn those he desires…

may the God’s sting him as his tales have stung

those women he loved with the tail of a scorpion.

Or the odes of Shakespeare,

I look at thou’s lips so ripe for thine plucking

and that body so bloody in need of a fucking.

The smut of Billy Childish

He dus what he dus so well.

A pure man of pure words

whether of buti or ugliness.

My per, per, poem.

What is that going to be about?

and how can it shout to the greats

as they wave at the gates

of the ultimate poets party

when you my dear,

my der, der darling,

can not just shut up and let me write it.

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3 responses to “The Words That Dance Out of Your Mouth.

  1. Did any of you ever get a sting from the scorpian? Honestly? Cause if you call that a sting you should consider it a love pat compared to a sting from the one with the large scorpian tattoo the size of the bible across her stomach.

    That one stings!

    Here all the stings were never delivered by a scorpio, but they were for sure delivered.

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