I slip the slut reluctant,

antlers velvet on the morn;

I bugged a bitch for seven years

cross lucent seas of porn —

Her jelly shines androgynous

in daylight's handsome bras

where red drops dip their saucy toes

from mammoth glands' umbras ...

Remove the socks that wring her breasts

and bend her to the porch;

rump quarters melt like butterscotch —

What grabs your champagne torch?

The prize my baby stiffs to torque

pries What's up? up her skirts;

"No hands," she cries, "you're not the first!"

Nitsy news sinks in in spurts.

Imperfect yawns the memory

that sucks me to my youth

as beauty sparks the fuse

igniting slam to lightning sleuth: