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First Love
I rode to the beach to club seals
and drag whales onto the shore,
when I saw what looked like a brown paper bag strangled by a bikini.
I approached her with the timidity
of a boy petting a newborn puppy with no head,
when my manhood exploded like an aquarium holding Harry Houdini.

She asked where I was from,
and I said glibly,"I'm from the womb".
She giggled, tore off my clothes,
and dragged me into her bedroom.
She was 51, and I was 15,
she looked like a picture that had been in the sun too long.
We did it like a grape on a raisin,
and then I wrote this song.

We explored each other like Lewis and Clark,
but the bed bounced Sacajawea out of the boat.
We talked about fornication, doing it, sex, and mating,
then she showed me the strangest place in the world to hide a remote.
I touched her like I touch my horny dog, Buck.
She was just happy I wasn't experienced enough to know
how much she sucked.

I mounted my jealous mule,
and trotted home to my little brother still asleep.
He mumbled,"Been a bad boy?"
I replied,"Toot toot, hey, beep beep".
When I returned that morning to my game-boy and chimp,
my parents knew I'd had my first hot night--
because I walked with a limp.
Buck sniffed my crotch and stood behind me, paws on my hips,
and licked my underwear on the bathroom tiles.
The neighborhood dogs pinned me down on the grass,
and sniffed me a little more with dirty doggie smiles.

But it couldn't last forever, that summer surprise.
When I snaked my first drain, put my piggy in his blanket,
plugged in my whoopee machine, spelunked, plunged my first sink.
A boy needs a girl who doesn't shake like a power-line holding a seizing squirrel,
and drool like a shook-up soft drink.
After the dogs stopped fighting the monkey for my clothes,
after Mom got the stain out of my shorts,
after that Summer went into that Fall,
I spent less time playing with my schwartz.

It's been 20 years since she came to me,
and I think of her often sitting still there on the shore.
I returned to that beach, that time and place,
and she was sitting there butt-naked and horny no more.
But a red rose and an unmailed letter sat where once we laid, I mean really laid,
"Jack--I can't find my medication, do you think you might have it?"
I softly dug through my pocket and with love,
placed next to the bikini-clad skeleton,
one very important little tablet.

April 28, 8:55 pm Copyright 2011 Michael Paul