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Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Equally opposite (Excerpts)-II

Loose Rubbers
Verse One Almost nervous and nearly near enough
Stripper shaking with a
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Fingers fiddle
A one noted sort of nigga
You know the type, right?
We see them with binoculars
Seeking out high notes into climax
Frequenting the lower tones
Hoping for the night to find them
Deep in the depths in some pleasure
Wanting her even when she scoffs words
Leaving the presence back to the pasts
No again and again
It was then but living now
Always love like an old rendition
Played slow, sweet but just memory
Made of body kisses long gone
No love made, no fucking strokes
You are the former inspiration
The words repeated without hearing
Until tears fallen are a rainstorm
But it’s shaken, brother
That’s the move, man?
Emotions are irrelevance
Simple trifles except for you
A lost gold in a silver society
Even if it hurts to admit it
Hitched up smiles, false faces figures
Another might enjoy pocketfuls
Of loose rubbers

Chorus Pocket full of horses
Of course it’s little more than a game
Don’t want your name
Please be thinking the same
All I want is you to understand
What will happen with the loose rubbers in my hands

Repeat once

Verse Two Downing drinks to settle nerves a bit
Uneasy with that
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Hands palm
Ones read in hopes sooth say differently
But it won’t, will it?
All the cognacs and mixed concoctions
Promise no passion, pain, or pleasure
May end up alone in the low lights
Five knuckles shuffling sticky
Instead of deep in the depths of warm pockets
Tight and moist enough for interest piqued
Still it seems presumptuous to ponder
Positions and contortions so earnestly
Lest you slip the objects of affectionate lust
A little mouse beforehand and before hands touch
A mickey to the bottom, got them
Only if you were that brave
So it’s just a dream to think on
Try to ply them with the wit and innuendo
All too blatant to be missed
No interest and no regards
Dying hopes two humidors puff on your cigar
So what’s next, friend?
All or nothing statements
You trying to fuck? Affronted but no subtlety
Slaps ensue and lonely islands grow
But no shame in it, you tried the best
Laughing it off, called them bitches for the troubles
Almost closing time, let’s get rid of
All these loose rubbers

Chorus 2xs

Verse Three Last call was the shouted announcement
What to do with this
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Look at her spread
Hoping quietly she spreads like peanut butter
She’s down, right?
Maybe that’s why the fingers caress
Places in the open and under the table
Like hush money dollars
Maybe I can make one holler out
Names, expletives, speaking in fabled tongues
Seems willing to a victim
Drained like vamps and bloodsuckers
So he just wants to fuck her ragged
It was urgent the way she pulled at the shirt
So now the two are leaving quickly
Crumpled Jacksons lie under a half full glass
Optimisms abound, hands all over ass, squeezing
Back to the bedroom, naked in seconds after sixty
Fumbling into front ones for prophylactics
Impatient mare seeks a stallion, rushes rides
“Fuck me already…”
If you ask me she’s ready, Alicia
So what’s the decision, brother?
Cast aside because he was thirsty
And she was wet so it all worked out
For an hour or two long dong deep down
Scratching pleased tattoos on the upper back
Next morning gone but something lingers
A tingling that says that maybe
You could have used a few loose rubbers