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If You Come First, Just Clean Up While You Wait Sonnet Forty-Two

In words that never seem to write themselves,
I bandy like a boy who tries to win
His way in girlie pants where wonder delves,
Buts quells with swiftest slap before hes in.

It always happens when I rush to meet
This self-inflicted drama of my clock
I could be calling out for things to eat,
Or on the sofa playing with my cock.

But no, a poets what I have to be,
Who plays with words instead of jerking off,
Im sure theyre those who rather play to see
The which came first: the sonnet or the toss?

So, shoot me if Im come a little late,
If you come first, just clean up while you wait.
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Author's Note
Sometimes it doesnt have to say anything...
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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