The premise behind the following
For my Introduction to Poetry course we were required to pick up a tabloid magazine and construct a poem based upon the title of the article. Sooooo when you read the title, i'm sure you'll enjoy it! I found it entertaining to write!
The Joy of Geriatric Sex
Sunday afternoon, and all that I could
Find on TV is old reruns of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman or a religious service
I could care less about. The wife being in the bathroom for sometime had me worried.
Should I even attempt to leave the luxury of my two-year-old Sealy PosturePedic
And see what that woman was up to?
Nope
Dr. Quinn had my attention at the moment. I remembered when she used to look like that.
Her smooth, bronze skin, the petite waistline, and that sex drive…
The neighbors must have thought we were rabbits! If she could still
Have that sex drive…
…
I spoke
Too soon.
The off-white bedroom walls became doused in darkness
As if the copper carpet clashed with her feet,
Created a spark to ignite a flamboyant fire, and
In her trail was a thick smoke.
The only thought that crossed my mind is that I'm next.
All the curtains had been closed
The TV extinguished
This was the shit doctors can't prescribe ailments for (they can for what may
Come next, but my plaid trousers provide enough evidence that it won't be necessary).
From the glimpse I grabbed earlier, her body was caressed with a coral blue corset and Matching lace boy-cut shorts.
To think she can still fit into them
She struts her sexy self over to the side table next to me
The scent of White Diamonds overwhelmed me after she slowly
Forfeited her hand to my body.
One button undone.
Two.
They all succeeded each other on my Brooks Brothers dress shirt
Like floats in the Macy's Day Parade.
A quick tug on my collar brought me closer as her lips graced the presence of mine.
Now it was on like Donkey Kong.
¿Cómo malo usted lo desea? snuck in between every pressurized peck.
I knew taking those Spanish classes would pay off someday.
I raised my hands to sift her silver-stressed locks, searching for hidden treasure.
Her rebuttal was to place them on her derriere, which made me think that the plaid
Trousers wouldn't hold much longer, but she read my mind.
Off those went along with her corset. As our flesh complemented each other, it didn't feel Like it always does.
A smooth coat of youth seemed to overlay our worn out bodies.
A stroke here.
A nibble there.
Oohs and aahs overflowed the room like someone forgot to turn off our mouths.
We were lying next to each other naked and not a single negative comment was made.
It was bliss.
Insertion occurred.
Moments passed.
We
Shortly
Passed out
To the rhythm of synchronized snoring.
The joy of geriatric sex.
No comments:
Post a Comment