Barb Dwyer
Tourist
In Ohio dark and thorny,
as I pondered hot and horny
o'er many a dog-eared volume
of torn-up corny porn,
suddenly there came a rapping,
not a human hand's soft tapping
but a scraping and a scrapping
at my forlorn chamber door.
Tis some mongerel, I muttered,
slyly snapping at my door.
Only this, and nothing more.
How it haunts me to think over
that storm'd night in cold October;
I was barely feeling sober
as I hovered o'er the floor.
But my reveries were shattered
by that dratted beastly clatter,
by a panting and a patter
somewhat louder than before.
Aphrodite's arms escaped me
as a veil of anger draped me;
Once again, infernal scraping
summoned me across the floor.
So I opened wide the door.
In the night the wind was crashing,
wicked lightning bolts were flashing,
showing canine fangs, white, thrashing,
gnashing there before my door.
A splash of blood upon the floor.
Suddenly, I knew the reason:
My Dane bitch was back in season!
And her wheezing pled for pleasing
right here, right now on the floor!
I administered a reaming
on that heaving canine demon,
sending screaming semen streaming
to her steaming deepest core.
Let me tell you, it's a chore.
Dog or Devil, I implore you,
though so deeply I adore you:
Will I ever heal my knees up
from my doing it on the floor?
Then our howlings rose together,
rising up into the nether,
lovers lost in one another
on the night's Plutonian shore.
To be uncoupled, nevermore.
as I pondered hot and horny
o'er many a dog-eared volume
of torn-up corny porn,
suddenly there came a rapping,
not a human hand's soft tapping
but a scraping and a scrapping
at my forlorn chamber door.
Tis some mongerel, I muttered,
slyly snapping at my door.
Only this, and nothing more.
How it haunts me to think over
that storm'd night in cold October;
I was barely feeling sober
as I hovered o'er the floor.
But my reveries were shattered
by that dratted beastly clatter,
by a panting and a patter
somewhat louder than before.
Aphrodite's arms escaped me
as a veil of anger draped me;
Once again, infernal scraping
summoned me across the floor.
So I opened wide the door.
In the night the wind was crashing,
wicked lightning bolts were flashing,
showing canine fangs, white, thrashing,
gnashing there before my door.
A splash of blood upon the floor.
Suddenly, I knew the reason:
My Dane bitch was back in season!
And her wheezing pled for pleasing
right here, right now on the floor!
I administered a reaming
on that heaving canine demon,
sending screaming semen streaming
to her steaming deepest core.
Let me tell you, it's a chore.
Dog or Devil, I implore you,
though so deeply I adore you:
Will I ever heal my knees up
from my doing it on the floor?
Then our howlings rose together,
rising up into the nether,
lovers lost in one another
on the night's Plutonian shore.
To be uncoupled, nevermore.
