Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

When You Dream At Night


And the rooster spur that grows,
between your legs.
Deep asleep you are.
Gay men but mostly normal women.
Sharp it slips in deep beneath,
your nylon panties.
Untill you gurgle in your soul.
Red bubbles pink.
Green eye's they open.
As your hips begin to move.
Vivid are your darkest dreams.
Your lips stay open as your tounge.
A voiceless moan.
You awake at dawn to a rooster crowing.

Submitted: Sunday, June 16, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 29, 2013

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