Friday, August 14, 2015

Notes - Pass Around Joy

Parked in the forest preserve with Beverly and I in the front seat, Reno and Joy in the back, while The Nanny was waiting impatiently at her work place for me to pick her up after theater practice.


I don't know why I always do this.


Well. Yes I do.


I fell in love way too young.

I stayed in love way too young.


Yet I wanted to partake of the strange and varied fruits that were out in the world.


Few were stranger or unusual as Beverly.


Still fewer were as bountiful as Joy.

There was much thrashing, smacking, and gnashing going on in the deep pool of blackness behind the front seat of my 1966 Pontiac Bonneville. Meanwhile I was awash in the moist resplendence and tossing throes between Beverly’s cheeks and tongue.

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Purveyor of paralogical compliance to verbally mediated reality, artisanal smut, with a pinch of full time flâneur tossed in to taste.