Musings In Rhythms and Whims

It stings when you press that dreary little thing,
Meant for single use, then dismissal’s ring
But where to dispose? In the bin, my true confidant,
My bashfulness, caress its gentle font.

Only five moons behind, she’s been, you see,
Though in bed we haven’t been for a week, not we.
A meal per day, just one, I say,
And my heart’s made mine in its own way.

Someone afore has whispered Aurora Borealis,
Bound in chains, Sam found her, cold as ice’s chalice.
Merely five weeks delayed, yet no date I’ve met,
Forever, forever, my fate is set.

I yearn for more, more chances to perceive,
To lessen the burden that I must receive.
On my, on my, ah, on my, um, um, head,
Diversity blooms if we had a G-I-T, it’s said.

Geeks in town, oh, Dave, let’s make it right,
(Girls In Trouble) brings a humorous light.
G-I-C, perhaps, with Charvels gleam,
Nay, G-W-C, ah, but it feels like a dream.

Time spent in futility, we waste away,
One more solo, come, let’s sway.
Yes, yes, you’re the one, the sole source,
To cleanse the strip, let the past divorce.

As if alcohol flowed, rubbing and pure,
Ignited the strip, made the hair endure.
Then Perry Ellis swept, with silk so grand,
Erecting a city, as if by magic’s hand.

She’s only five weeks late!
And my sperm lost it’s way.
wish i had another chance
but i just write my poetry.

:: 05.19.2024 ::