a riot of sorts

the lines of 58 poems about fucking
converge on a 4:00 pm hwt intersection
tastee patties staff tried to keep the kitchen hygenic
s.t.d.'s creeped across the ground from the bus park behind bethel baptist
to the old portmore bus stand

high school girls eat;
faggots huddle after dark

office types fucked
pelvic to the lip of a building in mid air

office windows
in full view of the cast stone dick of emancipation, beacon of the park.

skirted ncb tellers sucking more affection from the dicks of vendors,
than their suit and tied men can muster...
the beggars fantasies of the stiff breast browning come to pass on his cock.

half way tree lock up
police women brace against the bars of cells
open glory holes
a jubilee of juices

the clerk cashing in york pharmacy is sitting on her managers tongue
her smiles are dripping over his face as cum.

where else do we find the sophisticate truth of us but in ignorant dicking
pussy lips french kissing the hilt of the sword...