Very Bad Archive
Honey De, Kill the Clock
Robert Hawkins
Actinic lights only extenuate,
Serve to highlight that which is uniquely you.
Beautiful face,
Body of a goddess.
Your vrey aura seems to generate,
A glow around you.
Brests round, ample,
not huge.
With nipples that point to the sky.
Not sag,
In the general direction of your shoes.
Wringing my hands in anticipation of what you shall do.
In my next fantasy with you.
A voice to revere,
I've come to endear.
With each and every appearance you make.
Ruining the myth that angels so rarely appear.
For you create, compose,
comprise,
My heaven on earth.
Your cheeks move with fluid grace,
Legs in rhythm freezing my face.
I feel my blood race,
Heart pressed to keep pace.
Any interior, exterior space
would be enhanced.
By the view of the posterior you.
Only the sheen of our sweat between us.
Your little "yowl"
Creating rhythmic waves.
Estacy.
What is that irritating
sound?
Damn, alarm clock.
I feel cheated.
I've been duped.
Still part of my body remains at full salute.
How could I mangle my pillows,
Mess my mattress,
My mind thinking it was you.
You know, I would not mind
sleeping in drool.
Or sticky sheets.
If only Honey De killed that clock.
And I stayed asleep.
rlh
Honey its the wippersnapper
with the zipper wrapper.
Really I do like your work
I'm just playing around.
rlh
Robert Hawkins has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Robert's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Robert's latest works: