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Pokey Mon

He just can’t seem to control himself, always placing his hands on someone else Poking around in sensitive places, mon dem fingers love groping at de silk laces Always has a salacious sneer to offer reluctant gender opposites Mon loves giving a lewd leer, as his prurient poking never quits Pokey sits pouting in a pokey today ... in de dog pound there’s a lot of strays Mon don’t feel bad for him, no — he in de right place where de social trash go

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 11/6/2017 6:09:00 AM
I was intrigued by the title and the poem is far more absorbing.
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Date: 11/4/2017 1:20:00 PM
Day of reckoning is coming!
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Date: 11/4/2017 11:49:00 AM
Yes, I see this has double meaning. The title was catchy and I liked how you played with that name...Great write.
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Date: 11/4/2017 9:49:00 AM
The dominos are finally falling, good topical piece my friend...
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things