Seed Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Seed
Oh no, her eyes weren't stars,
nor did they sparkle like the sun,
while making rounds of bars
I's looking for some fun.
Her skin was bad, pimples galore
fat legs and hips, a small moustache,
she ain't no teacher and no whore
there was an angry ruby rash.
I did not care, she was so slow,
and I was fast, a catch-up need,
there was an urgent, liquid flow
just biological (and wasted) seed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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9/19/2024 7:13:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
