March 19, 2009
HOT WET FOOD
By Philip Cairns
Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns
Freddie stuck his penis into the soft chocolate mocha cake.
Runny whipped cream dribbling down his legs.
Tongue flicking into rude, forbidden crevices.
Fascist police running down empty hallways.
Hidden guns in lingerie drawers.
Tiny, taut breasts.
Bent, silver, broken knees.
Vicious and evil words spewing out of vile mouths.
Craziness and lies.
Fat lips and broken teeth.
Lust is harder than concrete.
Dirty buggered bitch dogs.
Dank, frightened basements.
Ghosts and putrid deeds.
Pretty boys who need to shave.
Love and violet smirks.
The loss of innocence.