Marmalade and Lace

by Melissa Torkens

August 19, 2002

Marmalade and lace,
I step on your face
as you draw back your bow.
Where's the arrow? I don't know.

These lovers' games without namesâ€¦
or at least maybe they should be.
"Drunken Pump" robs my dignity,
couldn't we call it "Double Indemnity"?

You Probe me with your Ford
while I hum My Sweet Lord
and your Contours I memorize.
My good name you blasphemise!

We meet in the 'twain
like orchids in the rain,
the drops of which are nearly heard
over the blaring Lynard Skynard.

As you plunge deep into my soul,
in your passion you try the wrong hole.
Will your roguish fingers probe my labia?
Don't be silly, you know what's a labia.
Our souls have spanned all time to be together
and in their unity we will last past forever.
In your ear I gasp to catch breath,
and uhâ€¦ sure, I guess you can call me Beth..

The stars whisper tonight we will be as one
because I see now that Friends is a re-run.
Your love is too rich to regretâ€¦
twenty seconds I will never forget.

Quote of the Day

“Yes, madam, I may be drunk, but you are ugly and in the morning I shall still be drunk! Wait a minuteâ€¦ Okay, I've got a match for you: your butt and my face. TouchÃ©.”

-Quentin Hillchurch

Fortune 500 Cookie

Happiness is indeed a warm gun, but you're not supposed to warm it in your ass like that. If your life is lacking direction this week, we've got one word for you: North. As you have long suspected, recreational drugs are the answer. This week's lucky charms: taupe meatballs, turquoise speculums, puce gallstones, gold bullets.

Try again later.

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