Pussy Liquor Poor is the man Whose pleasures depend On the permission of another. –Madonna, “Justify My Love” Let’s not let a kiss be a crime; I want what I know and I know Regret’s got to be justified. I’ll be your Joe Blow, your John Doe; And when your earned light’s gone burnt lime, Oh, I’ll be your electric glow. Swallow like a gilded flicker Your shiny pride, your intense stride; And drink of my pussy liquor. Floodtide, I’ll wash you from inside; Tell your mama and the vicar, “He’s wrist-deep inside the great divide.” Share:ShareClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on Skype (Opens in new window)Click to share on Telegram (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) Related December 28, 2012 Categories: Poetry