If my growing-respectable sample size of years
of experience forged in tears and in sacrifice
are indicative,
dick pics are empirically not a problem.
I haven't seen one, except those I've sent
I don't think they ever occur in real life
or if they don't,
then that proves me right.
But I never got one,
is the point.
That's life.
1 comment:
Here's a rare example of a poem where the soft, cruddy inchoate lines that sent me to the letter-buttons never even came close to making it into it. I had a couple ideas to do with "if a guy ever sent me a dick pic" and "flip him off" - touching subtly upon the fact I STILL don't have a smartphone.
But I came to the window to compose and this lovely little lead-in to the main meat of what was to be the artistic work eventuated.
And I decided to lop it off! Exposing a universal truth of all my ways, acts, works and pieces:
What brought me here is irrelevant.
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