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Cubicle.

Oh cubicle, Thou art like a cage. Florescent lights illuminate thy felt walls, Smeared with blood of the ages o\' dust mites, That clog my nose and make me yearn, To flail my snotted fist at, The Man who keeps me jailed thus.

August 29th, 2008 | All Poems, Office and Urban Poems | No comments

French Kiss.

Put your tongue in my mouth. It\'s warm. It\'s gross. I love it! Give me more.

August 28th, 2008 | All Poems, Sex and Love Poems | No comments

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Latest 10 posts

  • Deoderant.
  • Hardware Store.
  • Cubicle.
  • French Kiss.
  • Topping Straight Boys.
  • Flannel.
  • Airplane.
  • To Nake.
  • Coffee.
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