So last evening I was stuck in traffic in the industrial North York wastelands around Finch-Dufferin, where I noticed a giant flashing neon arrow and billboard announcing a 'house of ill-repute.' When I finally got home I wrote the following, based on that sign:
Amateur Night at Charley’s
time to strip
rip off our thong
I tend to giggle when
I ride the pole;
let me stuff all my
sexy into these red
tassles, this
ridiculous role;
get ’er up, gentlemen
start your wallets
I’ve never done this
--but you do it so well
you’re a natural;
it’s like you fantasize
about this
your whole life.
No comments:
Post a Comment