3, 2, 1 ... No One Else can Come [Original Poem]
If you ask me, women should
Stand atop the glass ceiling.
High heels, short skirts;
The view from beneath
Would be marvelous!
My bloodwork is strong;
A cocktail of metabolites
And nicotine. If I were a scuba diver
I would breathe a miasma of vapor
With a dash of oxygen, ripping off
My mask at the furthest depths
Of briney trenches just to make
One last request:
Won't you please sit on my face?
I wonder if fish stare up
At the surface of the sea
And know they are entombed
In a liquid and pine for
Asphyxiation.
I wear a neck tie
Embroidered with submission
So you have a conveniently short
Leash to lead me around.
Surround your hips in grass
And let me see what you got.
Tie my hands to the bed post
And whisper lies to my groin.
I'm not a fan of freon
Or broken conditioning
Though, when it comes to regression
And eating electricity
You can call me Zeus.
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