Tuesday, 14 September 2010

The Last Naked Poet

I am the world's last naked poet.
I see London staring at this fabulous cock that I shake.
Londoners getting excited by something that will awake...
The Sex on the Beach?
Could it get more kitsch?

Imperfect grammar,
Total lack of glamour!

I flash things out of the cloth. 
My pink squirrel
Will please us both.

I make you feel perv and trashy.
Yet... no tease.
You can stare and see
My orgasms.
No ectoplasm
Wraps me as I swing.
Look at my thing.

You Londoners are just devoted to every spot of my bod.
But if you want to get closer,
Why don't you just utter I’m hot?

Arse is OPEN!!! 

-Ernesto Sarezale

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