and i should know, because i like pussy
you could even say i prefer it
it's a part of the girl that most separates her from a boy
so what's not to love?
so when the call came,
i was ready to work in porn,
ladies and gentlemen,
and my friends kept telling me:
there is no such thing as too much pussy.
and i viewed pussy
and i was not picky
i saw it all
the fat pussy and
the skinny pussy
the young and
the reds and
the puffy and
the not so puffy
sometimes i even got a face or a name to put with the pussy
but all and all it still was just a pussy,
and the novelty was wearing off.
when i meet girls we have a great time until it comes to getting personal,
and that is when it starts to flash in my head:
Pussy Pussy Pussy
in bright gaudy neon letters that
simply killed the mood.
the boys i knew are so envious
they come over and beg me to
let them frolic through volumes of strange,
they insist they could always see more,
they question my devotion to pussy.
they don't understand . . .
to them, to most:
it is a prize package worth all that we dream
it is the mystical symbol of love and life
it is precious, frail and adored.
and to me, it's just another pussy.
so i apologize to the girls i meet
it's not that i don't adore you
it's not that i don't want to ravage you
it's just that i know at some point,
you're going to have a pussy.
and at some other point i'm going to be looking at it
dealing with it
and it won't be a part of you anymore.
it will become part of my mind's pussy collective
"averting your eyes is futile, you will be pussied!!"
and what if there is a tragedy and i have to pick your pussy out of a line-up?
you would think, that i, as your lover would be the most qualified for that . . .
but i'm not up to the challenge.
i don't know that i could be counted on to pick your pussy out of a group of others especially if they were just milling about . . .
so i freeze and i keep it light.
i keep everyone's pants on.
and every pussy in it's place.