and always on the fucking margins, man,
always playing it a little safe,
like even Buk, although I adore
that sonovabitch every day of my life,
never crossed some lines,
never sometimes cast down a few stones,
worried over some rhymes,
or pissed on the dress shoes of a few real pomes;
goddammit had a little fucking fun
at the expense of nearly everyone
and said fuck you to the guy next door
and laid my dick in wet sawdust
on a bar-room floor covered with wet whores
and stayed up all night long
just to see if I still fucking could
and watched with fascination
as I goddamned well got wood,
thinking about you,
thinking about you.
November 23, 2009, for the Wifey.
Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.