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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3 Reviews Added on October 1, 2012 Last Updated on October 1, 2012 AuthorSomebrownnerdNorman, 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.. |

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