These ladies don't pretend to know
The reason they're invited for.
The hosts attend their waiting guests
And slobber for a taste of sex.
The beer-pong table stands immortal,
More than wooden plank, a portal.
The girls step up to meet their partners,
Boys who scheme of team's departure.
Leaving bars and heading home,
Hounding for a doggie-bone,
I bark a bark and howl a whistle.
All's that's left is skin and gristle.
Slid off chastity, and then,
Inked above her thighs in pen:
"Will Not Do It, I'm No Slut,
You'll Have To Settle For The Butt."
The moon is down and rainfall lingers,
The sky submits to rosy fingers,
About the streets the sunlight shows
The shames of stranger bedfellows.
No comments:
Post a Comment