Topic: FAO SloppieYoshie n Nayef
Could you two drop me a line at email@example.com?
And just so that I'm not wasting everyone else's time, here's some smut:
by William Logan
O doctor, dear doctor, my husband,
he calls them the rudest names.
He calls mine Annie Oakley.
He calls his Jesse James.
I love to squeeze his Cutty Sark
as he rounds my Cape of Good Hope,
but why must he leak his fountain pen
in my business envelope?
And why are these Egg McMuffins,
and why is that steak tartare?
And why does he say my rack of lamb
has the smell of caviar?
He loves to lift my Dixie cups.
He leaves my bacon charred.
He drives my little rental car
by inserting his MasterCard.
He wants to put his dessert spoon
into my raspberry fool
or take his New York minute
inside my Liverpool,
or put his plug in my outlet,
his sirloin in my roaster,
his dreadnought up my river mouth,
his toolbox in my toaster.
Whenever we're in the bedroom,
he whispers in my ear
that I'm his drowning Ophelia
and he's my young King Lear.
And then he strips me naked
to kiss my razor clam
or puts his thumb like a diplomat
deep into Vietnam.