The Postal ServiceA Poem by Davidgeo.Neatly placing my licky stickers on packets Full of bills, maybe stupid love letters Or hate mails, maybe poisons, maybe drugs Maybe nothings, some folks just like to mail stuff You know, "things" Perhaps a timed device, perhaps a letter full of triggers Detonators, catalogues, real estate magazines, coupons For junk foods though Less and less these days The service is in a desperate decline Unfortunate (not really) Though hardly unpredictable Some say it's the finance How certain things are collected I say it's a different circumstance something else entirely Something not everyone can make Something everyone wants to see Everybody loves a good naked body With "things", in on and around it So.... Whatever medium the porn comes in Cheaply (even freely?!) It's what will be sticking No longer the pages of my old porn mags... Not anymore, for that I have special rags That clean plastic real easy so then What's left in the box is now for the collector's Or senders The point is specificity The ordered goods The d****s, the ball gags, the French ticklers, the flesh-lights.... moving on I pay "Mr Bills" online I'll never collect stamps I'm no collector of anything Not really Maybe records Maybe skulls No d****s Maybe one flesh-light I won't miss the mailman that much © 2016 DavidgeoFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on August 30, 2016 Last Updated on August 30, 2016 Author
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