QUAXX by Dennis Doph

out there. 12

Whenever there are Duxx
there are Quaxx
Quaxx have big brown eyes
and hair on their baxx
Or they have big blue eyes
and a solemn demeanor
Their assistants disappear so fast
You're not sure you've seen 'er
Quaxx prod you with stuff
and then they stuff some more in
They jerk you right up from your toes to your chin
Quaxx lean right in and breathe in your face
Till the state of your erection is a terrible disgrace

They rub their furry bodies up against you
till you're ready to expire
All the time these Quaxx are just doctors
and dentists for hire
Their offices are always lined with pix
after pix after pix
Of their baby princess daughters
who are taught not to mix
With any of the square dudes
their dads perform Quaxx to
Perhaps some of these Quaxx might prefer
a little creative Baxx to
the Future Rolling it back to when
they were very much on their uppers
Back in the days
when these hairy Quaxx were
active cocksuppers

So:
Some of these Quaxx
had better steer clear of this pro-active old Kraut
When there is a hot hairy brown (or blue) eyed Quaxx
pushing his hard dick into me
He had better be prepared to haul it out!

LAWNCHAIRS by Dennis Doph

http://wagenblatz@aol.com

out there. 11

Here in the bosky dells of San Roque
I move Lawnchair #1 another way
So it is facing Northwest by Southeast
And my view, at the very least
Is of the concrete slab where once there was a shed
And one hundred-foot pine tree; then instead
I move Lawnchair #2 to face the other view
Facing Southwest by Northeast; a different crew
Of shifting whispering bird-bedizened shapes
Bearing lemons and oranges, figs and grapes
Lording it all over this abundant domain
Is Mister Max the Devil Cat whose reign
Cannot be perceived as finite or even dim
Because his reign extends over us and him.

As Max moves from orange tree to Lemon/Meyer
I sit up in Lawnchair #1 a little higher
Remembering a different self in disarray
Determined to move in any other way
Away from silence and from flowering trees
Determined to have the male population on its knees
Determined to become the scourge of humankind
You got it: I had New York in mind.

Subsequently I had time to develop different tastes
Kneeling myself at Italian and Jewish waists
Fetching forth the everlasting waste of seed
In a concrete jungle growing wildly with stinkweed;
Later in Los Angeles I grew nasturtiums on my fence
With water plundered from the Colorado many hundreds hence
Now in fast retirement I like Francoise Sagan
Murmur Bonjour Tristesse and in the hills like Nancy Reagan
I see narrow trails choked with spring mud and forest rangers lean
Up those mean trails where Ronnie dragged the Queen
And the Santa Barbara breeze blows softly over me and you
As I shift from Lawnchair #1 to Lawnchair #2

TWITTER, TWITTER by Dennis Doph

out there. 10

Since the introduction of the fiendish Blackberry machine
We've descended to a place that's crass and mean
Instead of phoning or emailing we're deep in the trough
With all these sons-of-guns twittering their asses off

The senile old fart once known as John McCain
Has found a lease on life all over again
After he lost (by such a margin) to The One
Blackberry has given John a new place in the sun

The old bastard is busy working his pudgy fingers to the bone
Finding new ways to say "No" like the clone
of Herbert Hoover which he really is
Now he can twitter, since he's run out of jizz

Michael Steele twitters to the folks at the RNC
While they wonder about the fate of their dear GOP
Their collective jaws continue to drop
As Steele consigns the fate of Republicans
to suburban Hip-Hop

Steele twitters this news to Legal Beagle John Yoo
While Yoo is wondering just what he has to do
To get out from under the Justice Department's spitement
About his opinions and a probable indictment

Yoo twitters his rage to Karl Rove in Dallas
Who's sliming around the new post-presidential palace
Looking for a new mosh pit to put down his roots
And still worship Junior with or without his boots

Rove takes the scraps of info he got from Steele
And tries to turn Yoo's fright into some kind of a deal
Takes his feet of Harriet Meiers (the ottoman of impunity)
Keeps on flogging the old dog of post-presidential immunity

Harriet musters up her quotient of Texas sand
Takes her Blackberry in her horny little hand
Passing on the wisdom which came twittering before her
Which can only confuse and possibly bore her

She twitters Condi and tells her about Steele's action
How he's planning to boogie with Michael Jackson

How John Yoo will continue to do just fine
If he hides under a rock with Ken Starr at Pepperdine
Meanwhile her cc's of twitter have gone to John and Ken
So they can get hot all over again

And, while exiting on a juicy midnight date
They'll continue to stiff gays and lesbians with that lousy Prop 8
So John and Ken twitter and tweet without a flaw
To the tweeting and twittering Rush Limbaugh

Who, knocking back his 'meds' and swimming in fat
Continues to live with his mom and his cat
And doesn't he look fine and semi-sweet
Jumping up and down like a hippo in heat

While he presses the frightened CPAC-ers with every stern direct
Long as they kiss his fat white ass and genuflect

Rush jumps and bumps with plenty of soul
While Steele kneels and kisses his tight pink hole
This is the result of the Tweet that Never Ends
A rimjob between two Republican friends

So McCain tweets to Steele and Steele tweets to Yoo
Wondering what a tight Oriental mouth to a black hole can do
Yoo tweets to Starr and Condi and Harriet as well
Bringing the lesbian contingent into this rondelay from hell

And, while Rove struggles into the remains
of Junior's Harvard letter sweater
He'll have to admit: gay guys can do it just fine
but lesbians always tend to do it better

So: twitter, twitter, and tweet, tweet, tweet
As these brutes take the knowledge they learned in Slime Street
Doing dirty, dirty business with a sense of foul play
With wonderful overtones of Avenue K
And while they've been evicted from DC Town
These Twitterers have noplace to go
....but down