(First published poem from the early 1990’s for some school related book or something like that)

with his thumb and pointer finger

he spread her ass cheeks

exposing the puckered region

he leaned forward and nestled

his nose squarely atop her brown eye

he inhaled deeply to take in the aroma

it didn’t smell as bad as he’d thought

as a matter of fact

it smelled pretty good to him

he sniffed subtle

overtones of sweat and 

scents of animalistic pheromones

as well as feces

this made him beastly horny

his cock stiffened and he wanted

nothing more than to plunge

his member deep inside her

but he halted

as much as desire and instinct

told him to take her right then and there

he knew that he should call the

coroner and give his grandmother

the respect in passing

that she deserved

https://horrorsleazetrash.com/2022/08/04/anthony-dirk-ray-29/

(Originally published by The Beatnik Cowboy)

a mosquito hawk walks across the table

as stir-fry is on the stove

my glass is not yet empty

so I’ll attempt to write something

a pretentious

fantastical

far-fetched show 

about one guy trying to find

love from 30 or so different women

is on the television in the next room

this show has always struck me as

implausible and doltish

we are giving one man

30 women to choose from

all bidding for attention and

throwing themselves at him

such a foolhardy and asinine scenario

this show that numerous women watch

baffles me because this same man

on any given Saturday night 

would bend over backwards to 

bend over any one of these women

but now because of the cameras

and game show backdrop

he is king shit with the king dick

able to choose his perfect mate

but in actuality

a man goes out hoping he gets to fuck

a woman leaves the house

knowing whether or not 

she is getting fucked

it’s just so disheartening and counterfeit

my drink is drained

the stir-fry needs to be stirred

the mosquito hawk is nowhere in site