ottoman

 

40ish

in levi’s 511’s

sit on ottoman

mash down its face

let it dry munch my ass

until i’m superior again

 

across room

young tan man sits indian-style on floor

slowly cuts out ominous letters

from tinfoil sheet

will eventually form words:

HAPPY B-DAY

 

next to him

conjugal birthday cake

naps on my bed

pulsates under slime-green frosting

reese’s pieces encrust its borders

breathes thru peanut butter slits

 

since 40

i no longer blow out candles

my cake blows out mine

 

ottoman’s fuzz

pricks my ass cheeks thru levi’s 511’s

i resolve this by trimming it

slather cushion with barbasol cream

shave off fur with gillette disposable razor

then sit on it to test out

rub my balls back-&-forth

against smooth undulating surface

 

for 1st time

ottoman refuses to dry munch

begins TICKING instead

i tear open pillow

pull out innards

comprised of terrible clock mechanisms

 

i’m appalled by annoying sound

only to notice my birthday cake

nasty & dripping

watching me

i then scoop out its entrails

find more TICKING

 

i step back

to impassive image of young tan man

still cutting out tinfoil letters

as if set on perpetual replay

 

 

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Comments
  1. theval2000 says:

    I really like this poem James! 🙂 love the imagery!

BoySlut Comment

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