Paramour

For him she dressed as a sexy Bo-Peep,
took him to bed, and let him be a bhaaa-ad sheep.
Because of him her bed will always smell of butter
and future lovers will ask, “You eat a lot of popcorn in here?

Then there’s those photos she’ll never live down.

She didn’t mind being the good witch, kind of dug Dorothy,
even liked playing the bad, but the flying monkey bit was too far,
and she said “No!” to the munchkins. Decency demands a line!

She took the ropes, and the candle wax, and even the whips.
She played the games and bought the outfits
and for him she found a partner when he said he wanted a threesome.
Unfortunately, it was his best friend Steven.

For him she learned to like pain, but not as much as he did.
And she never got the whole toe sucking business,
though she kind of found it pleasing and surprisingly arousing.

For him she bought a dildo (this brought her to four, but don’t tell).
She let him teach her orgasm, something she’d learned from Seventeen
(when she was twelve). She wore the boots and corsets and wondered
if all men were like this.

She hoped so!

Early on, she decided he was the one, decided she’d do anything
for this man. No other way to explain the whole pony costume.
And she forgave him when he proudly told their friends,
“I’m back in the saddle again!”

It was love.

I feel like a posting break. The irony here being I will probably write more about this poem than I do when I make a typical post.

Originally, I intended Sundays for reposts of old journal entries from one of my many runs at consistent journaling. At least the entries that have withstood the test of time. I figured, set aside Saturdays as Ugly Shirt Saturdays, have Sundays dedicated to old posts with commentary about how I feel about them now, and one day a week for video. I haven’t dug through my backups to see what I think is worth fostering back onto both my readers (counting myself as one), so today you get a poem (that everyone reading this site has read).

I put together a digital chapbook of most of the poems I’d written between early 2004 and late 2005. Well, at least the ones that didn’t completely suck. This was one of the poems written then. It hasn’t appeared in any print publication, but I still like it. You can click the red abstract face below to see the digital chapbook, or you can follow the jump to just read the damn poem.