An incorrigible slapper

By Stanley Collymore

You wouldn’t recognize love let alone be ever
capable of appreciating its laudable overtures if it
were to conspicuously land on your twisted nose; for
love is not a part of your lexicon of words or for
that matter any salient feature of your warped and
licentious lifestyle. With you there’s absolutely
nothing that’s vaguely redeeming or noteworthy
where you’re concerned except to say that
you’re a first-rate slapper whose brains
are in her fanny and what minimal
thinking, the only sort you’re
really capable of, which goes
on in your pathetic life
only happens there.

© Stanley V. Collymore
20 December 2010.


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