By Michael (drink diet - it's a riot)
Date: 12 January 2001
Starving
He's starving.
Engorged
on the empty calories of
weak beer,
fake cheer,
tepid conversations
and
causal flirtations
with
voluptuous connotatoins
of vacant relations
and
fleeting sensations.
Told her she's beautiful
He's so dutiful
Knows she's not going to call him on it
so he's improvised a sloppy sonnet.
Change a few words - on the spot
uncross the tease and skip a few dots
Hit her intellectual G-Spot
Took her home for physical chatter
what he said didn't really matter
since he remembered to rub and pat her
and didn't forget to embellish and flatter
The morning after he won't stay
Barely remember yesterday
Doesn't care to know what she'll say
But it doesn't matter either way
He'll find another.
He's engorged
on the empty calories.
Starving
For perfection.
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