Friday, April 15, 2011

Poem 16/30 Chance Happening

(I’ve been lucky, I’ll be lucky again – Bette Davis)

Luck - just a matter of chance meeting opportunity. You make your own luck my mother always said There’s no such thing as luck the teachers chimed in, study hard, make something of yourself, You wanna know from lucky? added my grandmother. A nice piece of chicken. See how lucky? Neither fortune nor Miss Fortune, I continue because the option is to quit, Luck never gives, it only lends - that’s what the Swedes say though what do you know, Sweden, you smorgasbord, you Greta Garbo, you kill yourself it’s winter again, Adolf Hitler on luck: What luck for the rulers that men do not think after all the shit I’ve done I’ve concluded that I’m lucky to be alive, it’s like dessert every day, and then and then and then I’m examining a photograph of a hot burlesque dancer, and notice that that the silk patch covering her vagina has slid to the side and you can actually see her pussy lips and WHAT’S THAT it’s the hood of her clitoris, you can see the hood of her clitoris, not only is this girl smoking hot and enormously talented, she wears her fucking clit outside her body, she probably cums the second you rub against her while mine stubbornly hides deep in the recesses of G Spot Street, I need teams of excavators mountain climbers tireless erections I need Viagra driven dicks determination commitment I don’t need love I need a flashlight and a map and a little bit of luck…but hot dancer girl took all the luck for herself that is my definition of luck, a perky, friendly, outgoing clitoris, you don’t earn it, work for it, choose for it, bet on it…it just is. I’d be born again if I was promised one in my next life, I’d be really really lucky…

© puma perl, 4/16/11

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