porn stars champion against STDs;
their charters of rights & freedoms,
but what if it hurts to pee?
is that still statistically-considered a disease
if you’ve been yanking on your widget since you were thirteen,
and now you’re thirty-four
and when you stand over the bowl
you’re afraid you’ll shit your pants with how hard you extoll?
just
wow.
damn girl
i love the way you wear those jeans –
you’re one thick-bootied jean-wearing machine!
didn’t someone stop you when you left the house this morning
to tell you that what you got going on ain’t boring?
the way you’re walking down the street
got my ice cold heart beating mean.
wow.
just
wow.
there was one reason once
to dress that way:
to court a man –
to cultivate our gaze
unless we were shut out in a regalian haze.
or poor. then our cousins would do.
maybe that went for royalty, too?
now there are two:
always with my head in the clouds
thinking out loud
at work and on the couch.
sometimes i cry
but it’s only fleeting
when i remember in whose bed i’m sleeping.
even though the sheets are Gluckstein Gode,
the floor still feels good after i’ve shot my load –
every day, waiting to explode
then collapse into dark of the shared abode.
i can’t even watch Married With Children anymore.
good sleep, good rest, good rem
waking up
wipe the crust from my eyes
hard as stone no surprise
no expectations
trying to move forward with no expectations
girl here, girl there,
girlfriend everywhere
watching, thinking, sinking
i swear im done
no one but you
no expectations
trying to love you with no expectations
no expectations, no regrets
nothing to lose when you’ve gained it all
a roof, a kiss, a full plate
no expectations and no regrets
//jf 8.21.2021
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theory of a daskeman 