Thursday, 28 October 2010

My Anti-Slam Entry: Meaty Encounter

For those who don't know, the anti-slam is the opposite of a normal poetry slam. In the latter, the best poet wins. But the anti-slam, in a stroke of genius, awards the prizes to the weakest, shittest, most awkward, horrific poetry that night... it was so so much fun.

Anyway, this was my entry - it got booed off after 90 seconds because the audience couldn't handle the sheer eroticism of my language. So, here it is, unedited, uncensored and bursting with raw, primal sexual energy:

I first saw her over the meat counter of Morrison's.

Our eyes met.

She was working there, working hard

sweat dripping from her brow

as she handed the long, hot meat products

to customers.

She called out my ticket number:


Her voice was so hot.

The kind of hot that could melt polar ice caps

and drown all kinds of indigenous populations

living under sea level.

Yeah, that hot.

In my shopping basket, I had my hands on two melons

I won't say what they looked like,

as the erotic tension is best left up to suggestion.

She picked up a sausage that was on special offer.

and arched her gorgeous eyebrow.

Big isn't it?” she said with hushed suggestivenessnessness.

Yes,” I replied. “Like my cock”.

My moustache bristled with excitement,

and so did hers.

The sexual energy built and built and built,

as if Bob The Builder was put in charge

of building a brothel that was meant

to house only well fit prostitutes.

And, suddenly, she leapt over the counter

like a horny, big breasted frog,

and we kissed so hard it almost made me

swallow my bubble gum.

She pulled down my shellsuit bottoms,

got on her flamingo-like knees

and proceeded to suck on my semi-on

which grew into a three-quarters-on,

shrunk to a two-thirds on,

and gradually stabalised at a seven-eighths on.

I pulled my fleshy love dong

from between her beautiful yellowing teeth

and began pulling down her knickers from under her Morrison's uniform.

Her vagina,

which looked almost exactly like the mouth of

a grinning toothless monkey,

was splayed in front of me

and l began to lap away

like a horse, like an ox,

like a jihadist terrorist getting it on with the first

of his 72 virgins while Allah films it.

I could tell by her moaning

that she was going to fake an orgasm pretty soon

so I stopped my jaw-aching oral technique

and slid my Dr. Nobble into her fleshy swamp.

I flipped her over and began rooting her from behind.

She was screaming bloody murder:

That feels slightly above average!” she wailed, excitedly.

I rooted, and rooted, and rooted,

and after three and half minutes

of ecstacy I withdrew, came,

and gave a salty blast of manfat on to her uniform.

We lay back, panting, she turned towards me,

and gave me the best sexual compliment I've ever received.

That was alright” she said.

1 comment:

  1. Yes, I couldn't handle the sheer eroticism of my language too :-DDD Thanks anyway, I did laugh soooo much! :-DDD