Poetry From the Other End of Experience
Ten pounds out
Ten pounds down
Glad to have
My Daddy’s bowels
Basking in the glow
Basking in the glow
Fell good in
Fell good up
Tingles cover
all my guts
Basking in the glow
Basking in the glow
Some keep in
Fecal sin
But I always
go for the win
Basking in the glow
Basking in the glow
Sit for and hour
Sit for a day
Trapped in the buzz
Don’t wanna play
Basking in the glow
Basking in the glow
Coming from the office
His office- the Man
Yelling from his office
Just stick to his plan
At my desk
on my doughnut filled with air
He gave me stress and left me in
My bloody underwear
Never praise, never good
No lubricant in hand
Screaming, reaming
from this nasty little man
At my desk
on my doughnut made of air
nasty squishy feeling from
My bloody underwear
Frost on windows
Favorite place for bare chill
Has brown stain on glass
At Farmer Joe’s
The sheep must run
To avoid Big Joe’s big fat gun
he rams all with. And with the cows
who meekly graze he shares his plow
With everything he takes his fun
The wife speaks up
to end these sins
Beasts worth more then out and in
with germs passed fro. And with the horse
she begs him take the saddle course
When mounting does begin
But Farmer Joe
will never learn
Even with dripping and a nasty burn
In his scrotum or with the rash
That turned his skin to mottled trash
Corn holing all with no concern
Frost on the windows
Seeing my ass on the pane
Kids run from my house
I never like it hot.
I only like it cold
Heat brings friction,
irritation ‘tween my folds.
In summertime I wipe
Forever do I wipe
Constantly ‘tween the folds
but always I smell ripe.
As I wiped one day
I came across a bump
Poor little critter died in there
and rotted to a lump
So they’re always covered
And constantly cleaned
So none of Nature’s friends
will die there in between
Keeping on our journey:
Frost on the windows
Buttocks pressed firmly on glass
Waving at neighbors
You start to whine about 35 years
but most of the time when were you here?
Down at the pub, out with the boys
Raising your wrist was your greatest joy
How ’bout the times you spent with those whores?
Everyone knew they weren’t really cold sores
Now you are broke down and not much to see
So you decide to come crawling to me.
Suck your own dick! Suck your own dick!
For 35 years you’ve been a big prick!
Suck your own dick. Suck your own dick
For 35 years you made me quite sick!
You talk about work- I made more than you
and did all house work while you went and screwed.
The few times we did it, I had a child
That I had to raise while you ran the streets wild
Do you even think you can get it to stand?
Look in the mirror. You’re not much a man
The shriveled thing has seen better days.
All things considered why should I stay?
I hope you all see a pattern forming
Frost on the windows
Chilling my Hersey Highway
It awakens me