RootGarden.com

 
 

 

The Iceman Cometh

   
 

I slip the slut reluctant,

   
 

antlers velvet on the morn;

   
 

I bugged a bitch for seven years

   
 

cross lucent seas of porn —

   
 
 

(Jack-Frosted mists adorn).

   
   
   
   
 

Her jelly shines androgynous

   
 

in daylight's handsome bras

   
 

where red drops dip their saucy toes

   
 

from mammoth glands' umbras ...

   
 
 

Stand back! The bitch undoes.

   
   
   
   
 

Remove the socks that wring her breasts

   
 

and bend her to the porch;

   
 

rump quarters melt like butterscotch —

   
 

What grabs your champagne torch?

   
 
 

That you should be so fort'!

   
   
   
   
 

The prize my baby stiffs to torque

   
 

pries What's up? up her skirts;

   
 

"No hands," she cries, "you're not the first!"

   
 

Nitsy news sinks in in spurts.

   
 
 

(limpid eyes so deep it hurts).

   
   
   
   
 

Imperfect yawns the memory

   
 

that sucks me to my youth

   
 

as beauty sparks the fuse

   
 

igniting slam to lightning sleuth:

   
 
 

Sleek wet betides the truth!