a treochair style poem about oral sex
DON’T DILLY DALLY MY DEAR
EASY-PEASY MEASLY THREE
Coward by definition is one without courage to do or endure dangerous or unpleasant circumstances.
On the other hand, all the people that rode a late night Philadelphia Septa train and stood by and watched a woman initially be sexually assaulted and then full on raped are also heartless and morally bankrupt. Not one single witness called 911 or offered any kind of push back to the assailant or assistance to the victim. No, instead they either sat by and watched or whipped out their phone and recorded the act. Not a one had an ounce of compassion. That, to me is quite sickening. It wouldn’t surprise me that whoever filmed it probably has already uploaded it to pornhub.com or some such site. A situation like this happened a few years back when an elderly woman was physically assaulted by a thug on a subway and again, people recorded the act and uploaded to YouTube or sold the footage to the news and offered absolutely no assistance to the victim. How do people live with themselves ?
I composed this song, as creepy as it sounds, but it’s dedicated to the victim. The cowards…I kind of hope there is divine justice facing them in some capacity.
I had a ridiculously stressful headache inducing day at work and texted my wife about it. She came home and handed this Halloween card she made for me to cheer me up. That’s us and the cat looking out the windows. I love this card, I am hanging it up in my cubicle tomorrow.
Back to the gym
Back to counting calories
Back to being accountable
Baby steps to a brighter day
Yes, my man says he loves me, never says he loves me not
Tryin’ to rush me good and touch me in the right spot
See other guys that I’ve had, they tried to play all that mac shit
But every time they tried I said, “That’s not it”
But not this man, he’s got the right potion
Baby, rub it down and make it smooth like lotion
Yeah, the ritual highway to heaven
From seven to seven he’s got me open like Seven Eleven
And yes, it’s me that he’s always choosin’
With him I’m never losin’, and he knows that my name is not Susan
He always has heavy conversation for the mind
Which means a lot to me ’cause good men are hard to find*
* Herby Azor / Cheryl James / David Crawford copyright 1993