ONE POEM – Cavlero

Posted: April 24, 2012 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

the inside of a cloud’s asshole smells like a clean pair of cotton panties
By Cavlero

I’m daydreaming
in my bedroom
and I can’t stop
farting,
and because
I can’t stop
farting
my whole bedroom
reeks of chili farts,
and it’s weird
that my bedroom reeks
of chili farts
because I haven’t had chili
in well over two weeks,
and this alarms me
at first
and makes me worry
that something
is wrong with me,
but then
I realize
I could care less
if something actually
were
wrong with me,
and instead
of worrying
I just begin wondering
what my first date
with Katy Perry
will be like.

When she
meets my parents
will she call them
Mom and Dad,
or just
Mr. and Mrs. C?

Sure
my bedroom
smells like chili farts
now,
but I’ll never fart
in front of Katy.
Never,
ever,
ever!
I don’t believe in
farting in front of
ladies,
unless they’re family
of course.
Like
I used to fart
on my niece’s head
all the time.

I should bring
that back
and fart
on my niece’s
head again
and take her down
a peg.
She’s almost
all grown up
and almost
taller than me
now
too,
and a think
a good fart
on her head
would show her
who’s still the boss,
and no,
it’s not Tony Danza.
It’s me.
I’m still
the boss.

I wonder if Katy
will laugh
when I inevitably fart
on my niece’s head
in front of her.
I bet she will.
I bet Katy
will laugh
when I fart
on my niece’s head.
I bet Katy
has an awesome
sense of humor
like that.

I’d never fart
on Katy’s head
though
because I’d want her
to find me sexy,
and I doubt
me farting
on her head
would turn her on
unless she’s freaky
or something,
although
I don’t think someone
who’s freaky
would get turned on
by that,
but I bet someone
who considers themselves
frea-kay
would get turned on
by that.

You know
you’re freaky
when you’re not
just freaky
but you’re frea-kay,
and hey,
fre-kay
is more than fine
with me.
I’m all for
fre-kay,
and I could
get into that.
I could get into
farting on Katy’s head
if it turned her on
because she was
fre-kay.
We could use me
farting on
her head
as a kind
of foreplay.
We could even call it
something like,
“farting foreplay.”

I should really
be doing my laundry
right now
because I have nothing clean
to wear to work
tomorrow,
but instead of
doing my laundry
I’m laying on my bed
with half an erection
because I’m daydreaming about
farting on
Katy Perry’s head
because she’s so
fre-kay.

I do that
a lot.

Sometimes
the only thing
that makes breathing
bareable
is sticking your head
up some poor cloud’s
asshole
and just leaving it
in there
for awhile.

It’s just
so much nicer
in there,
and it smells nicer
in there
too.

The inside
of a cloud’s asshole
smells like
a clean pair
of cotton panties
right before
you slide them down
a girl’s legs
and eat her
out
and go,
“Mmmmmmmm…
vagina’y!”

I can’t wait
to fart
on Katy’s head
as well as
say the phrase,
“Mmmmmmmm…
vagina’y!”
in reference
to her vagina.

I’ll never
chili fart
on Katy’s head
though.

Ohhhhhhhh no.
No way.

I don’t care
how bad
she wants it
because that shit’ll
straight up
kill her.

Yeah…

I’m pretty sure
I’m going to
end up wearing
those dirty jeans
with the barbecue sauce stain
on them
to work
tomorrow.

Oh wait… no.

I had chili
two nights
ago.

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