the poetry of yelp

Luckily,

I had

dressed

for the occasion


with a zebra-print top,

tight black jeans

with zippers,

and golden

snakeskin

pointy-toed

heels.


I fit in perfectly.





I SAY:
The one with the mole on her face made Right Guard turn left.
I'd rather eat ass.
You serve super cheap shit ( ( ( *CRICKETS* ) ) )

The sailor is a man and he takes care of you.

He proposes you models and give you his advice.

Good to have the advice of a man.

Some of their
button-down shirts
burn my nipples
at the clubs

when I'm
not
wearing
a wife beater

underneath.