Love at the Bus-Stop
I love your little cigarettes
Coloured like your fingernails,
You are so new,
It never fails to turn me on,
I'd like to have a 'chat' with you.
And when we chat
I want to know
How many boyfriends you have had,
And are you pure and virginal
Or are you BAD?
Have you ever walked this way before,
Like a little whore,
And did it make you glad?
I'll tell you now,
It's gonna make your mother very sad! !
My manroot tingles
As I'm aware
Of your little figure standing there.
They say that you're forbidden fruit,
But what do I care?
I'll pluck you from the tree
And have a taste
Now we're alone
And nobody is watching me.
There!
That wasn't so bad, was it?
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Added by Poetry Lover
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