BESS

I've got a hootie sticking out of my esophagus,
And a blowfish sticking out of my ass.
The acid from your bile reviles my mind's exile,
Into a place of honor and worth.
And regardless of girth, your nostrils flare saved me 
in my destitute roadside abandon.

We who know the usefullness of a ten ton truck,
Fuck backwards in broad daylight 
so we can see the whites of their thighs.
But ohyou wear your leg hair well.

Vengeful product assimilator, fucking inventive mess,
I'd rather look like Porgy than a small pathetic Bess.

I'm an underappreciated lecherous angel floating in the Soup Du Jour,
And I searched to be comparatively innocent,
By befriending a boring whore.

Bricks fall out of the sky onto innocent postal workers,
Shirkers of the new dawning morality,
Perpetrating flesh ripped from vain virginal heads of stamp lickers.

The kicker?  For a fireman's embrace she doth give her face,
The blood on the pavement is worth every drop,
The smell of her last lover's cigar finally forgotten,
A new hopeless idealistic dream begotten.

{POETRY}