She climbs into a passive black
And shakes her tail towards the door
I seek her smile
And kiss my, long tongue, fur coat, goodbye

And I think that I’ve never wanted more
Than dark covers to hide me from the sun
And a swimming pool
Filled with painkillers topped with rocks

You wicked plunge
You can’t bring me anything I can call mine

So I walk out the back, they talk while I leave
But I only hear the fire, as it cuts through their stink
And makes them pretty with jam
Morning paper crap again

What a slice of life
Have we become so jade?
Twist out some more but I get numb
And I can’t feel or focus
Or some other kind of defensive cock rub out
Slab of nonsense in a shake whirl spin
Poke eye, jab face, nut hole run
With mirrors to match
And you can still catch
60 minutes if you try

But she climbs into a passive black
And I kiss my, long tongue, fur coat, goodbye

© 5/16/1997
William Grant Preston

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