and you will know me by the trail of ding dongs
and you will know me by the trail of ding dongs
by DIY Danna
Running like a rat on the treadmill
away from those soiled thoughts of you again.
“Run, Christian, run!”
to a beach with sand in my buttcrack
waiting for the beautiful rapture
stealing lines from old songs
and familiar names
while perfecting that Galveston tan.
you are perfected by exposing the film
that has been colorized and bleached
by the polluted waves.
i was the seaweed at your feet
a tangled mess choking itself.
don’t believe what’s written in the sand
over your buried photo:
“call me”.
she calls you pookie in public
and pinches your little white ass
says sunshine to your private places
sodomizes you with convenient size middle finger
while you spank me, the naughty girl
in scrumptious dreams.
see – i can be cute and girlie in my sleep.
you feign sleep
i write this love letter and wonder
when i’ll see your naked lunch.
maybe in July
on an indoor picnic blanket
as you watch water-rusted reels
of Jacques Cousteau on the Discovery Channel
after leading me to your forbidden zone
with a trail of cream-filled Hostess goodness.
this is very good, very H & H ready. I love the last two stanzas, and the buried photo in the sand. I have to abmit i became confused with the stanza that begins “she calls you pookie”. . . who is that? I thought it was about you and the subject of the poem, so who is this, and why is she only there for two brief lines. Other than that, I’m a fan of this one.
food and sex. somehow they go together? general indulgence? hmmm… anyhow… i like the humor of this. thought it would lighten the mood a bit.
This poem is about one girl, but she’s sort of a split personality. I guess you could call it a menage a trois between a guy and a girl with split personalities… I hate PDA (public displays of affection) but the dream life is rich with PDA. And at the time I was dealing with unrequited feelings…”see, i can be cute and girlie in my sleep” is a reference to conflicting feelings…You could say I felt like two different women. Blah, Blah, Blah – We all need more sex than food.