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Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Playa Slaya

He hugged himself
as if to crush his frame
into the size of a reed or an apple seed.

So small that he couldn't be sought
by her sweet brown evil eyes.

Oggling the shrunk and shriveled,
each spot of lust drops drizzled
on torso, abdomen and thighs.

Not far from a wall
thats smacked then cracks
from head board busting swoons.

Cause and effect from powerfull hips,
that mad dog sense of pride.

That makes a pimp into a simp,
a playa into a waiter
with her race horse, ball bustin' moves.

So ya better eat cha' "Wheaties",
say your prays and kiss ya kiddies.
Cause this girl has nothin' ta lose.

What cha woman gonna say,
when she feels that scartch on yo' back?
What she gonna say, when you move like that?

Sorry sucker, she's gonna know where you been,
and not from your breath
but the money you spent.
On Penny the Slayer so true.

She's a home wrecker, a check fetcher.
a full stormed heckler with hips that catch ya.

From Phi Beta Slammer, in East Alabama
where ass chumps plow boys too.

Ain't no sly, slick and wicked
gonna punch her ticket,
and many more she will dethrone.

Just as soon as you unzip,
she'll make you her bitch
then tear yo' life into threads.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

such a dichotomy of styles, those lives you write about, a talented man you are, sensitive to express the diversity.
snuedamb

JStar said...

So truthfully written!