. 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

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Her Spit

She licked her spit from that precipice of pink lip,
pussy for the boys with the guns on their hips,
the last life-jacket remains forever hung in the cabinet
     'cause the captain goes down with the mother fucking ship,
twist her ankle,
spank her and pinch those tiny tits,
she slips like venom through my veins,
like mixed feelings through Cain,
like the very heart of civilization through my stiffening dick.


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