Hobo Jungle
-
Jackie Blue
-
Jackie Blue
To each his own. I have found that there are few places in America that don't get to you in some way. They'll kill your wallet with taxes, social service burdens and extreme insurance premiums. Their poor planning has resulted in water shortages, excruciatingly long traffic jams, high electric, oil, gas, water and crime rates. They promise change but nothing good results. They'll feed you fear served up upteen times a day. They squeal and scream fire and brimstone each Sunday and tell you its for your own good. They have sold our country to Japan and Saudi Arabia. Given our jobs to Mexico, China, India and Indonesia. They have sent our children to foreign lands to be killed by their wild desire to own all the oil. And the masses suck in all down and yell for more like vacant-eyed vacuums.
Now don't you feel better about where you live?
Now don't you feel better about where you live?
HOT CHROME
One morning
She just pulled up her dress
And kind of sat on the chrome bumper,
Leaning against the chrome grill
So that her pussy just touched
The hot chrome,
So that the very bottom of her slit
Just touched it, and you could see
The reflection of her pussy lips
In the polished chrome.
I kept thinking how hot
It must have been on her ***,
Because the sun had been up awhile.
And then there came this little trickle
A shiny tear that very slowly moved
From her pink skin onto the chrome.
Well, Ben got three very cold
Longneck bottles of beer
Out of the cooler, and opened them,
And the three of us drank the beer
And Ben and I kept looking at
That pussy against the chrome.
It wasn't that it was too hot
to do anything--it was just
That it was nice, the three of us
Just doing that.
One morning
She just pulled up her dress
And kind of sat on the chrome bumper,
Leaning against the chrome grill
So that her pussy just touched
The hot chrome,
So that the very bottom of her slit
Just touched it, and you could see
The reflection of her pussy lips
In the polished chrome.
I kept thinking how hot
It must have been on her ***,
Because the sun had been up awhile.
And then there came this little trickle
A shiny tear that very slowly moved
From her pink skin onto the chrome.
Well, Ben got three very cold
Longneck bottles of beer
Out of the cooler, and opened them,
And the three of us drank the beer
And Ben and I kept looking at
That pussy against the chrome.
It wasn't that it was too hot
to do anything--it was just
That it was nice, the three of us
Just doing that.
Stranger In A Strange Land
Jackie, There's the way things should be.
And then there's the way things are.
And then there's the way things are.
Last edited by 2railjon on Tue Nov 02, 2004 5:38 pm, edited 2 times in total.
-
Jackie Blue
Happy Hallowmas to all! Now I'll proceed to tell the future for you all:
Did you ever think
As the hearse rolls by,
That sooner or later
You're goin' to die,
With your boots a-swingin'
From the back of a roan,
And the undertaker
Inscribin' your stone?
The men with shovels
All stand around
They shovel you in
To that cold, wet ground
They shovel in dirt
Then they throw in rocks
They don't give a hoot
If they break the box.
Oh, the worms crawl in,
And the worms crawl out,
They give a little squirm
And they turn about;
Then each one takes
A bite or two
Of an arm or a leg
Or another part of you!
Oh, your eyes drop out,
And your teeth fall in,
And the worms crawl over
Your mouth and chin;
They bring all their friends,
And their friends' friends, too,
And you're chewed all to bits
When they're through with you!
So, since we're all bound to be worm-fodder, we might as well make the best of the life we have, right?
Cheers and happy hauntings!
Did you ever think
As the hearse rolls by,
That sooner or later
You're goin' to die,
With your boots a-swingin'
From the back of a roan,
And the undertaker
Inscribin' your stone?
The men with shovels
All stand around
They shovel you in
To that cold, wet ground
They shovel in dirt
Then they throw in rocks
They don't give a hoot
If they break the box.
Oh, the worms crawl in,
And the worms crawl out,
They give a little squirm
And they turn about;
Then each one takes
A bite or two
Of an arm or a leg
Or another part of you!
Oh, your eyes drop out,
And your teeth fall in,
And the worms crawl over
Your mouth and chin;
They bring all their friends,
And their friends' friends, too,
And you're chewed all to bits
When they're through with you!
So, since we're all bound to be worm-fodder, we might as well make the best of the life we have, right?
Cheers and happy hauntings!
Cool creepy poem Jackie, I love it, thanks, and Happy Halloween to you too.
If only it were true though! Nowadays I'm afraid our future is either getting turned into rockhard plastic and placed in an impenetrable box or being burned to dust before those worms ever get a chance to turn our poor arms into tree boughs and our hair into flowers.
BOO! Now that's some creepy cripes.
If only it were true though! Nowadays I'm afraid our future is either getting turned into rockhard plastic and placed in an impenetrable box or being burned to dust before those worms ever get a chance to turn our poor arms into tree boughs and our hair into flowers.
BOO! Now that's some creepy cripes.
Return to “The Club Car Lounge”
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 182 guests