Thursday, August 26, 2010

Mausoleum Love

Part 1

Baby …how I can ever recover
From that day
Not very long ago
You squinted and drooled at me in that tawdry fashion with obvious lewd intention
Among that polyester set retinue
Hell, I knew … from across that grey linoleum floored room
That it wasn’t just the smell of
Fresh formaldehyde residue
Wafting in our eyes
It was like
We were the only two persons there with body heat in that joint
And maybe we were…
It seemed that steam started melting our corrected vision lenses to our respective uni- brows
And suddenly it couldn’t have been hotter in that viewing room if I had worn nothing else but lime Jell-O shot pasties and sat under my cast iron steam broiler gazing at erupting lava lamps hump
My secretion glands went into overdrive as you sidled up all raging bull
Nose and ear hair steaming
Bulging those plaid pants in swollen testicle deliciousness
Those giant glistening pink jowls wobbling like perfectly round cheeks on a newborn baby face all tit sucked out and sleepy
Resist!…hardly…I went all mad mad cow…brain holes and all
Oh baby, you were so already in like Flynn…come on big boy and milk me
You grabbed my sweaty hands
To dance
How unexpectedly romantic at a funeral but, I could hardly move
These veined legs weak like overcooked macaroni plus… a terrible urge to pee right there
You’ll never know what you do to a girl
My labia lips started singing really high kinda like a girly Italian counter-tenor about cigar factory workers in Toledo with the clap dancing the Bossa Nova or something
Then you whispered…
Your place or mine?

Part 2

Oh baby,
You don’t have to ask twice and don’t ever apologize
That ride on that urine soaked city bus was excruciatingly sexy
Every bump and jostle heightening what was on our minds
I hardly remember arriving
I Wiggling out of my widow weeds and girdle like a mad woman to take a seat and get ready to take in every second of you stripping-teasing
Seductively folding that corduroy suit into origami…baby, I like a man that’s tidy…and so so creative …and it was just plain amazing when you quickly knit that tweedy vest out of your own pubic hair
Then, in a blinding flash…there you were…all of you…. in the air…yet, so close to the floor
Your fine fine tool like a shiny white plastic immersion blender complete with attachments at the ready to whirl and, turn my insides into a deep vat of eggy mayonnaise
Oh, it was so on…you had me at puree
Like whirling dervishes we started to slam all over your ill-lit man cave
I your willing sex slave
In a blink you had me pinned up-side-down with fishing tackle on that strange extensive antler collection staring down from those creepy wallpapered walls
Then I gnawed myself down and grappled you into a clean one armed Admiral Nelson
You only chortled and nibbled my big toe clean off
Then I smiled coyly and fisted out some of your hair plugs to make myself a little hand tuft
You mustered on top and screamed out passages from Dante’s Inferno while strapping on spurs
I switched it up and rode you like a spitting ill tempered llama through the Andes as I got busy stuffing your mouth with used handi-wipes
You tried to rip my throat out with a router
I got out your fingernails with my pocket grouter
God! I love a man with power tools
You took me from behind, on top, the side, through broken teeth and then hanging from out past the window seat
I could only hear gurgling moans of pleasure as I fed you broken glass extracted from my diced up sinews of my mangled feet
Baby, we were like a Ferris wheel hurling out of control at a state fair
And, our juices were flowing like sick sick vomit from buttered corn on the cob eating slobs watching the prize winning pigs go at it
Then…. you warned me of an impending eruption and yelled
This is going to be a ten on the richer scale
And baby it was
I don’t need a seismograph to tell you
That the Earth moved that night
And although, I did notice you actually had a seismograph in the closet you were checking… honey, why were you hiding those heavy chains anyway?
Your landlady only confirmed our magnificent passion when she pounded on the door to see if there had been another cat brawl and warn you not to have pets tied up down in the basement here again to torture!

Part 3

After that was settled… I could hardly move
My loins were limp like overused Sham-wows…ah, afterglow!
But morning had to come
And you said adieu…or actually get out and tenderly gave me change for my dollar bill so I could catch a bus
Oh baby…is this love?
Or just a one nighter
I don’t think you have a phone
I think that’s what you said
And since I don’t usually take the bus
And I kinda forgot were you live
So I’ll just wait by the funeral home
And remember how you made me groan
And hope somebody you know dies
Real soon

Sate is the daughter of a Lutheran minister… And you know what they say about them.

1 comment:

  1. Hahahahaha, Julie, that was ass kickingly funny, and strangely arousing, hee hee hee, I never had to sqeegee off my jeans before!!! :D