Lost links & Re-ups

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Slinging tuneage like some fried or otherwise soused short-order cook

03 May 2009

Bucket O' Love

Sure, I'm a trash picker...
digging thru the detritus of modern living is my secondary education...
before recycling was PC or dumpster diving was de rigueur sport,
I sifted thru manorwomankind's waste like an archaeologist in search of the missing link...
only I was searching for instant gratification...
a satchel of cash, a briefcase of drugs, a diamond ring,
a rat's asshole I could sell as a diamond ring...
but what I found the other night was beyond even my most twisted desire.

I was driving down Cap. City Freeway the other night, coming from the lamest Beltane celebration I'd ever had the displeasure of attending.
Not only wouldn't the Wicci (Wiccas??? Wicc ass??? whatever) present let us make a human sacrifice (we said we'd go find our own virgin 'cuz we knew they were all fucked...but NOOOOO!!!), but they wouldn't even let us make a pentangle on the coffee table with neither salt, cornmeal, nor chicken entrails. We had brought along the Satanic throws so we just spread them out nonetheless & onward.

After we'd smoked the wormwood / lizard-tail concoction
& consumed all the blood, the 'Cum-Bye-Yah' drove me out in search of ablution.
I was driving down Cap. City Freeway in the darkest wee hours when something caught my eye. It was a 5 gal. bucket setting upright beside the roadway.
It drew me like a magnet to its Holy Grail.

I pulled over & walked back to check it out.
Before I got all the way next to the bucket, I could hear her voice.
She kept repeating, "You won't be sorry. Just help me. You won't be sorry."
I didn't know where the voice was coming from at first,
but as I got closer & closer to my intended prize,
I realized the voice was coming from inside the bucket.
Little did I know that the ultimate prize of my life-long trash picking days lay before me.

Not cash nor drugs nor diamonds nor assholes, but my own true Bucket o' Love.

I don't know how she got in that bucket
& I don't really know how she came to be setting by that roadside,
but I do know that she's fine where she is in that bucket
& all that she needs is loving.

She's got all her openings, so the imagination is the limit as to what we can do.
She never seems to tire & she never gets enough.
I know she'll never leave me, even if I treat her rough.
She's the woman of every man's dream.
She ready day or night
& she always treats me right.
She likes lots of fluids,
they seem to keep her running smooth
& she's got the silkiest mouth I've ever felt,
she's got the tightest groove.
She might give me lots of lip,
but she carries a heavy load.
She never bitches 'bout her life
'cuz she could be setting by the road.

I don't want you to get the wrong idea...
I always treat her nice.
I keep her warm...
I keep her dry...
I give her pleasure once or twice
a day...
I love her in my own small way...
I take her with me when I stay away
from the maddening crowd at dawn.
I never ridicule...
I never force her to go to school...
I always wipe her drool
on my pant-leg when I'm thru,

I know you'll all condemn me
but I know you'd take my place
for just one day of unconditional commitment from my beautiful bucket o' love.
All you members of the jury...
& you, your honor, you must believe me...
she's no slave to sex or pawn of lust...
she's the only woman that ever loved me...
I'm the only one she trusts.
Just because her lot in life is loving a loser like me
doesn't make the fact that she lives her life in a bucket
any less than free.
She could be dead or in a specimen jar up on a scientist's shelf,
instead she's loving me in every way & gratifying herself.
Her family couldn't pleasure her because of incestuous guilt,
but every time I slam my rod buried to the hilt
in that bucket o' circumstance,
in that bucket o' quivering need,
I know I've made my bucket o' love smile...
I know I've done the selfless deed.

So if you're ever driving home late after a pissy Satanic night,
remember, the bucket you see by the side of the road
just might
serve you right.
I know that the shrinks have examined my skull
& couldn't find a clue
But I know you'll surely understand
if this ever happens to you.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful. And funny as hell.

    Birthday wishes, brother Taurus.