MADE MYSELF UP by Dennis Doph

Touchdown Jesus. 39

I made myself up to go on cyber
Hoping for a midnight liason
With my sweet Laguna Beach imbiber
Thinking my sweet body a boon
a sonnet slightly out of tune
for him to use and muse upon.

Put mascara in my stache hair
Cancelling out the inconstant white
Put fetching accents of shadow HERE and THERE
put K-Y upon my penis slit
another tasty place for him to sit
Hoping my charms would last all through the night

Spent precious minutes on the condition of my buttcrack
Smoothing the soft red pubic hair
God help him! I was on Webcam Attack
fixing the flexibility of my hips
applying spiderbite suction to my nips
Hoping my micturating anus would not stick to this damn chair.

But lo!
My swain did not appear
Vanish-ed into the mists of Fair Laguna
Eluding my stance, my lance, my spear
wondering why my blandishments did not compel him
to fall upon his bony knees, and sell him
A package which (for sure) might importune a
Man who'd worship spider-bitten nips
And ask to closely -- never morosely
Inspect my slightly used (almost never abused)
spectral rectal lips.

And so:
My Demon Lover must away
Into the cyberspace where we all stray
Importuning each and every sexual Druid
waiting -- vainly waiting to implode
and then discharge another load
of Skype-hyped anal fluid.

Ah! Inconstant men!
Back to the dildo again.