i attempt a read of’a future love sex book, laid upon my doorstep by an unknown assailant, a mailman w/a slight grin and a misstep. late at night then, i glaze into its contents within, i peak into the first page or 2 as a considerate begin. then soon, w/out hesitation, i say, ‘eff it’, and dive in.
intro to pg 7 then insanity on 278
i cut my finger, paper style, when i try to skip jump the disposable turnstile on pg 7, head spin, look around, no one else downtown, (now’s our chance, go ‘round!)jump up over & down, then turn smile to frown when pg 278 was as garsh-darn blank as a manc bank on the Monday before sept 8th - geez drat cuss a muck, cuss ‘em up, tell’em off, waffle house style, flip ‘em off, piledriver in a while,and try your luck, your cheatin’ last pages stuff elsewhere, skippin’ straight to the end, seekin’ a quick conclusion, an abbreviated resolution, wrong again my friend….cuz the end of future love sex book was about as finished blank as a midsized pink army tank (ya see it needed green speckles to dazzle the generals). foiled.
skip to pg 137, great disgusting muddy mistake you filthy man pig
i attempt again a mid-book bargain spy even later at night ,..huh huh huh,..ho ho ho, oh my oh my, here we go, in my sinister defenses, yes um yes please, with an extra side dish of something a bit more, (REFILL TO TABLE 4) - thisizza chapter we’d like t’get after, and continue to remember thereafter:
i got right proper randy w/a bird called sandy in some broke down shanty on the coastline in her panties, i can still hear the SMACK from slapping her ass, that cute blonde from across the pond, of her smell i was quite fond, and quite a bit more if i’m honest (but our editor cut it). Whoaaa, sheesh, what got intoer? what made’er know’er fear?
us men, in our tight underwear, chomping like a pac man there, w/a bit’a thick brown,….hair, turn clock parts inside her ticking dock, tick, tock, tick, tock, it chirped like a bird flock in her docking station inside, down inside until a predetermined time, then STOP! on a dime, go no further, incite in her nothing extra, none of the afters, afterwards are absurd, cuddling is like hugging a large turd, just nail’er and leave her, for now, for now, until a future book describes how and know how,…so until ‘now’ i flip to
pg 152 with a bit of you in mind
you w/out even a clue as to who you knew or are from afar, but unhitched i ditched sandy and the one night standies, ditched megan (she was a bit of heaven, temporarily, but ultimately too much to carry) and mandy (meticulously dandy, tasty, quite handy but oddly resembled sandy), ditched sherry, (far too hairy), and wendy (dependently too into me), rita, mena, shawndevia, Xena, lucy and goosey all too loose for me.
all absurd ladies, save it, hold it, what’s the rush to smash your stuff, huh? huh? another one of society’s pigeons shit on your new haircut? then calm the mad dash to drop it, hush all the fuss, but in cold sweat reading break i now realize just how these ‘assignments’ i’ve been thru from pg 152 to 202 made me no better than you, her, them, all of them, again, what kinda filthy sick love sex chapter was that but future love sex book, that wasn’t us, not in the slightest, error in your foresight or for me: 4 times not enough in one night?
no, no, no, not me, not me or you, as in me wanting you, but just who are you? when will you reveal your PG-15 secrets to me? it’s you, you, you not them but damn pg 278 ‘why you blank and unanswered like a politician’s question?’ when we spoke this quote out loud to the neon night our response received silence so we trudged on, mindless, faithless,…..
…..to pg 229 wanting a quick end in buzzing neon late night
in gnashing teeth, i no longer see your eyes excite, i see dark black stars outlined in Col. Kurtz horror, invisible marks and false starts, i smell embarrassing farts and view messy sharts, i look up past due midnight repeats on TV, green in envy but all because of my soliloquy, but damn you future love sex book, it’s all cuz of you, of just what,…lackluster infomercials w/sexy late night discovery and empty, empty, emptiness my choice or irrational laziness? yes my effin’ choice, but both, inn’t? ‘breeding own contempt’, the last line on pg 244 shouts to me.
pg 245-277 (a soft warm water cleansing saved the disastrous ending which was blank and pretending)(either that or i pee’d myself)
you’re unknown, you are sooooo unknown, you are friend or acquaintance seen but so very unknown to me, you walked a dog today or yesterday w/out knowing me, you’re in Asia right now or Boston or Harlem or beachside or LA cab fare, and glitzy, so sexy the way you move, the way you jive with laser eyes, unproven to anyone ‘cept me in time, you exist in musical twists, in late night dives w/french fries just outside city limit drives, and later when tunes vibe, click in style, in fashion alive, in kicks, in shape, in modernity awake, in a poem tried, unaired but who then cares? it was written anyway, locked away, set to private for the right moment, hidden among my mysteries, and mountains of symphonies of devotion or dissolution from the creative norm, a speak out, a cry out for help in a sense i wanna do it, ALONE! which is a film rated capital F for lie if i’m alive, so it won’t be, it doesn’t need me,this effin’ book, this future love sex trick, laid at my doorstep by a dick mailman w/a slightly evil grin and a misstep. huh, gang rape pg 278, who needs life printed on a page at the end of the day anyway?
it’s food for thought mobsters.
