From her pretentious throne in the bayous..... The Goddess...
demands that I confess my sins as she can smell my evil deeds
and the ominous odor of my putrid sores from diabetic comas yet to come....
Yet is only the rum I consume and my cancer which strangles the demons
as I am desperate to escape the madness of so much poetic justice.....
Her accusations of improprieties surpass even those of my own carnal knowledge
Of this I am sure....I may have been a bad man in times of need....
Yea hideous as I be.... I have committed no sin against her nature....
For a mare the likes of her...though beg does she to be ridden...
I have never mounted...
So compelled is she to dispense of geldings she can't have....
Hanging their balls like so many Bolos on the walls of her cabin down by the Lake....
There where the umbrageous dark shadowy waters of the lake lend burial cover
for her hideous heart...as she was drowned by the years and years of crocodile tears
Her beauty now faded like dust covered confectionary pastries made for the dead Queens of France....
She gurgles 'Yes Yes Yes' though the answer from Above has always been a resounding 'No'....
Surface still....she will to swallow another horny Toad's creamy load....

2007 © T Sheridan

Ted Sheridan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-kisses-every-frog-in-the-hopes-of-finding-a-prince/