Bottom FeedersA Poem by SomebrownnerdI work as clerk at a gas station. Just another midnight event.
Rotting behind my desk, listening to the ice machine bombard metal with blizzardous content.
The chiming of a door's ring. Fighting self contained lust, while simultaneously making greeting to the bobbing head of a beautiful blond. Descriptions of a blessed body: Worn top, masking plump filled poise, exposing glitter glossed mid-drift. Followed in suit by neon blazed shorts revealing tight wanton turf. Clues, directing towards occupation, point around pole, and under light. All confirmed by that, Dirty - Prosthetic - Smile. She beleaguers my sinful notions, moving in seductive circles. Isle 1. Isle 2. Isle me. They definitely need a clean up. Sliding a almond cluttered bar, bathed in black, across the counter's lacquer, she demands value. Flipping the crackling sweetness, I tap tactfully at the numbers: One - Seven - Nine She retorts by, emitting a bemoaning chuckle, slapping two bills to my attention; Following it all by a "Keep the change". Tucking the tender into its proper position, I stand ominously; doused in a bleach stained shirt, and fringed pants. All the while thinking, What the hell am I doing here? © 2012 SomebrownnerdReviews
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StatsAuthorSomebrownnerdNorman, OKAboutIt's been five years, since I've put thoughts to words. Alas, the dam has finally broken. Wow have things changed quite a bit, I'm looking forward to being a part of this community again. So much t.. more..Writing
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