Melanie Browne 2

by Ian on August 15, 2011

Prison push-ups
 
I want to do push-ups
like they do in prison,
that always looks bad-ass,
especially when they do it
with one hand,
a midget sitting
on their back,
humming
troubles so hard,
 
if I could do push-ups
like they do in prison,
my life could really change,
I really don’t know how,
but people would probably
sense I was different somehow,
they would let me
cut in line

at McDonald’s


The Tiny Hell’s Angel That Lives In My Dooney & Bourke Handbag

He calls me his Old Lady
And yells at me a lot,
He tries to pinch my ass,
But I hold him in my palm
And remind him
It isn’t the 60’s anymore,
He doesn’t believe me,
He says he wants to take
Me to a friend’s house
Who is away on vacation,
So we can turn on, tune in,
And drop out,
I tell him that sounds nice,
But I have a pretty busy
Schedule ahead of me,
He just won’t give up,
He tries to force my hand
Inside his tiny biker jeans,
But my hand is too big,
He tries to impress me by listing
All of his criminal activities,
Assault, arson, and extortion,
But that was all when he was normal
Size, and it is hard to picture him
Doing anything hardcore like
That now. I feel sorry
For him so I flash him
My breasts, and I let
Him camp out
Between my thighs,
The next morning he
Is gone, a tiny nomad
In search of his
Tiny iron horse

Lottery

I gambled
with your mouth,

I took a wager
with your tongue,

won the sweepstakes
when I unzipped
your pants

you said it
was a stroke
of luck,

and took a shot 
in the dark

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