0117

i asked susi markova what i should write about, being the first thing that pops into her head, and she answered "penis" so ok, heres a poem about penis.

lifeless and limp in the early morning hours,
in the cold of that night it indents and cowers,
as the morning sun rises so does the tent,
pitching up high in the middle as an outwards dent,
stretching long with arms spread out in each direction,
cannot stand up quick because of this giant erection,
manage to move after thinking of dirty slime zits,
definitely never think of smooth skin large tits,
get to the shower and turn on the cold tap fast,
sagging the balloon after it almost was ready to blast.