deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Howling....(Amerikan Gothic Revisited)
(the sweet scent of a bitch)
I sit at the queens feet
my stiffle drips it's frothy brew
as thy glandis boils in the throes
of a canine heat
her highness sits upon her throne
thighs slightly agape
am I the protector of the crown
or shall I be the instigator of
this pillage? This mouth-watering
deliciously, indignant rape
(Forced by her hand.......)
a nether-worldly pressure rising
as I begin to pant
her slender, alabaster fingers
stroke my brow as my serpent begins the dance
rising from my prone,
hips proceed to thrust
my knot descends it carnal sheath
….the image of my queens “beast of burden” throbbing, ready to bust
and with a gleam in her coal-black eyes,
a wry smile and devilish grin
she ushers me towards her pearly gates......
.... "good boy" she admonishes and guides the kings scepter in
" I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord
And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord.....Phil Collins
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 5
reads 779
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.