Dirty Irving Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Dirty Irving



He once could care less who felt what.
And he strutted with such arrogance.
He had struggled to get up off his butt!
And he became cold as he grew older.
Exposing a boldness.
With a chip on his shoulder.

He sought the weaknesses of others,
To remind him of those he had!
He showed no empathy to them at all.
He thought the worse of them.
And this made him glad.

Dirty Irving was a hustler.
He knew the street quite well.
Dirty Irving was quick,
To call anyone a bitch!
Hiding the fact...
He himself was bewitched.
Bothered and quite insecure.
Feeling he could endure,
A self imposed hell.

Dirty Irving met his match.
Someone like himself...
That was detached.
But that attracted him!
Like a sin delighting a whim.

And dirty Irving became deserving...
When his desires were from him kept back!
He exposed his heart and the depth he had.
He pleaded to be given...
Temptations that drove him to the edge,
Believing he could not be driven this 'mad'.

And one day dirty Irving decided to abandon his ways.
Dirty Irving found himself serving subservience.
Victimized by sex and drugs!
By the one who kept him 'whipped'.
And treated him as a possession.
As a slave.

And dirty Irving stayed that way.
Like a puppy who now obeys!
Today wherever dirty Irving is seen...
His 'master' is nearby.
Knowing who commands,
Dirty Irving's dreams!
And it seems this is the life...
Dirty Irving appreciates and likes!

'Subservience? '

Who knows?
Maybe he's a bottom kind of guy!

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