the shit i pray about with my pants around my ankles
My dad told me that
anyone who chooses to go out with me
after reading my poetry
is a pervert
He said that it could only mean one or many things
that
everyone who reads my poetry
must have a record
and probably has to register as a sex offender
and probably has one or three dead bodies buried
one to three miles from their home
and
probably reads books for fun
and probably
can’t find reasonable employment
and watches porn more than
the news
And
after cumming for the third time
in
your lap
I was kind of
praying
he was right
______________________
pussy cult
we were all a little too tan
with too much makeup
and we had this rule
“you show your tits OR your ass. Not both”
Hookers show both
and that’s how you can tell a whore from a slut
and we huddled together
making secret plays
it was a cult
for maybe pussy
but in the end,
no one got much out of it, right?
In the end, your dirty little girl
ended up being not much more than a little girl
and when
she got down on her knees like you asked,
and looked up at you like you like,
it all just seemed
a little
sad.
Rusty Truck 