I used to write X-rated poetry for friends that I called Slutty Little Sonnets. Since that’s not going to be happening anytime soon for Susan, I decided to write a less than slutty little sonnet that is probably more aptly named a shitty little sonnet. Now I definitely see some potential to make it slutty, such as rhyming options like “ass” and “erection.” But by god, that would just be inappropriate. So enjoy the PG version instead.
I wander’d lonely ’round some random lake
And lo! divine, reclined upon the grass
A damsel pure, demure and fine. She spake,
“Good day!” and gazed into her looking glass.
Unmanned was I, by charm and pixie poise
And pondered how her form I might caress.
I schemed and pointing said, “What is that noise?”
She turned to look and I peeked down her dress.
But Susan, cunning, bonked me on my head,
For she was wise to my nefarious ways.
Thus I recoursed to ask her whilst I bled,
“What purpose has your mirror, but at yourself to gaze?”
“From you I e’er withhold my affection;
To all I freely offer my reflection.”
Photo by John F Cooper.
She just wanted to go fly-fishing. She’s lost her waders and her pole. Her fish got away. She’s wet. She’s lost. She’s completely gorgeous. Help?
If I were a fish, I’d gather up her waders and pole, then swim up and jump into her arms.
Although I think I’d have a better chance with her if I were a frog. She’s a sucker for frogs. Little green ones.
Photo by Emily Tebbets.
I wonder if anyone has preceded applying latex clothing with the statement, “Excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable.”
I wonder if you wore latex as underwear, would your outer clothes just kinda slide off while you walk?
I wonder if wearing latex in Death Valley would result in a naked you standing in a puddle of melted goo.
I wonder how many people know that the plural of latex is latices.
I wonder why more latex designers don’t include drop seats for convenience.
I wonder how I would look in latex.
Photo by Sito Alvina.
© 2010-2013. All photos copyright their respective owners. All words copyright susancoffey.net.