.
Fuck so hard that the penis would
Knive through the condom
And spray-paint the man's name
On the dull walls of the vagina.
They had that freedom--those inalienable rights--
Her to be banged and to squeal
To her friends that she was in love
And him to white pussy
And a gal that he could call his own...
His woman. And if the initial M got ready
To graffito-crawl his way out--
A problem for the rest of their years---
She could erase it, not remembering it
With any more significance than
Having clipped a broken end
Of a fingernail. She had that right.
Her man said so, and so said
The American constitution.
His shift in Toastmaster
Had for that day ended,
And so now he could rest in waters;
Focus on the bubbles that rose
When he farted; and let the memories
Of the entire day be released to rise and fall
Like the steam.
He would have to scrub himself
Good before going to his woman:
She understood money
With its charm of a cocaine high--
Although the need for dominance
And the breaking of rules
Made her love him
Who still did not supply her with all of her needs--
But the composite smell of the factory and the drugs
That he sold after each shift
Would lessen the good feelings that made
That understanding.
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