Quit
The peach dribbled down your breast
and I smoked my last ever cigarette
inhaling your beauty
and stubbing out my future
under your lowered eyes
Holy
Your breasts, holy
an altar, a font
receive baptism of my ejaculate
and I kneel
and we share
Holy Communion
To Serena
I want to be your sports bra,
As you zip about the court,
'cos there's one thing you can count on:
my unwavering support.
Oh let me hold you firm and tight,
as you smash the opposition;
I can guarantee your boobs
will not stray from position.
And after final victory
as you unwind in the shower
I will sigh, on the locker room floor,
That was my finest hour.
Oh I want to be your sports bra;
I really couldn't be keener
to hold your boobs, big and bold
my beautiful Serena.
The peach dribbled down your breast
and I smoked my last ever cigarette
inhaling your beauty
and stubbing out my future
under your lowered eyes
Holy
Your breasts, holy
an altar, a font
receive baptism of my ejaculate
and I kneel
and we share
Holy Communion
To Serena
I want to be your sports bra,
As you zip about the court,
'cos there's one thing you can count on:
my unwavering support.
Oh let me hold you firm and tight,
as you smash the opposition;
I can guarantee your boobs
will not stray from position.
And after final victory
as you unwind in the shower
I will sigh, on the locker room floor,
That was my finest hour.
Oh I want to be your sports bra;
I really couldn't be keener
to hold your boobs, big and bold
my beautiful Serena.
Having graduated as a Chemical Engineer and after slumming it for thirty years in the film industry, Graham Buchan finally got round to writing poetry, short fiction and reviews. His books include Airport Reading and There is Violence In These Vapours (both from Tall Lighthouse) and has been on the radio and the telly.
No comments:
Post a Comment