tipped his hat their way
as he took note of her
giggling with two other girls
laden with heavy face paint
strolling down maroon
cobblestoned streets
with smiling faces
glances & nods
exchanged at everyone
they’d greet & meet
he couldn’t help but
notice that nice little quiver
that made her hips shake
giving him the wanton shiver
twirling parasols under
bare assed noon sun
for fair skinned escape
his innards ached
for those soft milky legs
wrapped up all around him
with her he knew damn well
that bed would quake
one way or another
in his rich man’s way
he was gonna buy
that perty girl
with a string o’ pearls
his wife had no say
he’d do so by any means
cause that’s the way they did
many & most things
when in the brothel’s
of New Orleans….
Sitting in a bunker upon his golden shitter furiously typing out nasties on twitter inside the whitest house ever built on the backs of those he looks upon as squatters scared like the bigliest white granddragon rat of an ever growing white supremacy litter.
“We must allow one another to find hope wherever they can find it. Lest we become hypocritical thieves who will bear the burden of dimming their light.”