Poem: In The Stink

Please don’t, baby,

Dudes all over dig it indeed, but, baby I aint them.

Don’t tinker mechanically, be it sensitive

pinky thumb or bowling pin, it’s just not in me

and won’t be in I hope, there’s no one loves a good shit

like me but it don’t translate, baby you love the edge

but don’t push it, or I might pop.

Poem: In The Stink

3 thoughts on “Poem: In The Stink

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