Back behind the prison walls
there’s gobs of frustrated holes of beef
Beef so needy like you’ve never seen
Ready for lips that are wet with hot jizz
a smooth wet pipe of a mouth to plug
Some need throat and mouth so bad.
They’re slabs of meat jut out straight from
where they once layed pushed into a suffocating tangle of
hair and sweat and baggy skin - fumes of the crotch
waiting to escape
filling my nose with the the smells that would make me
drop to my knees and inhale the aroma
of prison jock strap sweat.
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