Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Starting off July with a sonnet


This one's a tribute.  And it also has a sense of humor.


I hope she gets it

How often do they fuck? To see them, one
would think that their connecting should be more
than once a day; if I were he, my sun
could shine upon her daily, and keep score
upon a calendar each time I found
the place that I should be. And as my fate
is just to cherish her, I wish the sound
of her delight would ring his ears, create
the ever-present hope to hear the same
for each tomorrow when he has that chance,
the opportunity to stake his claim
within her womb, to prance a mating dance --
because I want her so, I want this to
be simply true; that they do often screw!


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