. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .
"A working class citizen is apt to see this country for what it's worth... A miasma of interlocking variations on differing demographics and geographies unlike any other inhabited space in the world. The American Dream. The rolling footloose hills and the upstanding Apache badlands where criminals cut bread with priests and the children of Hollywood. I am no different. Yet I am still brazen enough to think that the world is a playground built by the rugged hands of a hard-working man in order that my fantasies be materialized." -- P.P. Vonnersdale

Thursday, December 17, 2009

A Lovely Pregnant Terp and Tami

I received a picture of two of my very good friends and was inspired to write a poem about it...


My baby girl’s big fat belly-suitcase holding my expected child like a sarcophagus of the unborn,
both have charm,
one has well developed legs and arms,
but both aint got shit to this tattoo of cool looking random letters on my arm.

Your big belly is so massively pale,
I bet it would explode if I pricked it with a nail,
I bet I could build a home on its property and offer it for sale,
I bet I couldn’t hear myself on the other side if I yelled,
it’s so brightly white I gotta wear these shades so my eyes won’t fail.

My honeypie,
varicose veins on your thick thighs,
you make me drip pre-cum with those sultry eyes,
maybe tonight I’ll put three or four more kids up in there – maybe five.

Her momma told us to get an abortion,
so I gave her a five-fingered, high school class ring, knuckle sandwich – all of it, not just portions.

Girl, I got my hand all over the side of your stomach
but feeling your displaced guts up in there makes me want to vomit.

These Levi jeans fit us like gloves,
you in my old pair
and me in yours.

Because of those spying neighborhood children’s parent’s reaction
I’ve had to take some precautionary action...
That’s why I’ve got our bed sheet wrapped around your tits
but taking it off is at the top of my wish list.

Sometimes I wake up deep in the night,
sweat dripping from my beard and my butt hole tight,
I want to punch on that big belly but I know it aint right,
giving our baby blood packet eyes won’t make me your white knight.

That’s why I put brass on your wrists and gold on your neck,
and we’ll pay the doctor with next month’s check,
so let’s finish this photo, girl, and head out to the deck,
my head is swimming and I need something to wreck.

12.17.09

3 comments:

  1. I know this is beautiful and I know I want more.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This makes me want to creampie my girlfriend

    ReplyDelete
  3. you really understand this dumbfangled new-found love the kids are toyin' with these days, p.

    ReplyDelete