Future Babies

 

A flower stands erect upon the stem.

Odd:
It bears the naked flesh of many men –
Pulsing, writhing, arteries humming;
Androgenic fluids chase their channels
To the ground, caking at a mound
Of naked girls, who pout in doubt and
Hurl their rabid glares from eyes
That catch the light of want
And desperation.

Sighs:
They know the separation
Stays their open legs
From bursting cocks.

Masturbation of the mind
Is all they need –
They’re in the docks of
Fate:
The evil Overpopulation’s out to feed
Their thund’rous urge to procreate!

Forget the conjugation, just for once?
Bag the bulbous tits in bras.
I know they want the tongue on c*nts;

But focus! Where’s the room to live?
And think about the future babies.

THINK:

You know they won’t forgive
Your selfish drive to suck, to shag.
The Dying Age of Man will drag
Him down to disappear.

So keep the girls away from sperm –
Don’t let the men up there!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

Happy Birthday Doc

 

Doc means Doc Wilde.
A poet of distinction
and a good friend.
Whose love for his wife
pours over every line he writes.
Not to forget his faith,
which he is not afraid to show,
nor must we forget the friendship
of which he so readily displays.
Well, Doc today is your birthday,
may you have a wonderful one,
filled with love and peace,
for all your family and friends,
whom all want to share it with you.
This friend from across the ocean
has but one more thing to say.
Have a Happy Birthday my dear friend,
from me to you.
Have a wonderful day of celebration,
and may God Bless You today and always.

For all of us on Poemhunter,

David Harris

 

 

 

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