Monday, November 25, 2013

a wet ass and the absence of dis-ingenuity

Wet and
Clinging precariously to me
Who was dry and calm
But now is trying frantically 
To get a reassuring grip 
On a very small and
Definitely damp
Little ass
It smacks of a usually far away primitive people being visited by a television chef 
Who eats monkey brains cooked in cow dung over an open fire and
Smiles and
Nods and
Seems both 
Enticed and
Until he and the camera man sneak around the corner of a hut and
Laugh and gag in hushed tones
Except of course
There is nowhere to hide from a wet ass

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