He came in sucking hind tit—
Again.
Last rung on the old sales totem pole
Was him,
But that was ok,
‘Cause hidden below
Those polyester sansabelts
And that zip on tie
Was a love machine of the New Order.
Affection deprived as a child,
A tender orphan, weaned too early,
He tried every way but loose
To make up for all those years.
And he was full of sweet ambrosia,
Honeycombed glucose oozed
From his half lit, full throttled
Moves and desires,
And the urgency circumferencing his need.
-jenn long
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