Lately, people get here a lot searching for sex. Sexy poetry, too, is an often used search term. I’ve only written one or two poems that are posted here about sex, So I always feel like these people aren’t getting what they are looking for. And so, here is another little silly thing.
At the All Night Sex Toy Store
We walked in the shaded back door,
a gaggle of giggling college girls
more excitement than the cashier
a rotund, bearded guy with a thin sheen
of sweat on his brow, large round stains
at each armpit. We spread out
along the walls, reading the back of this
or that package, laughing at the inflatable
women. Joanne considered a large,
purple dildo, and the cashier called a friend.
A few of us gathered behind a shelf
that stored fetish books, reading aloud
lines like, he licked her patent leather
boots from sole to knee. Another greasy
backwoods man in a mis-buttoned flannel shirt
walked in as we took our purchases to the counter,
condoms, magazines, the occasional vibrator,
and dirty movies we’d all take back to our own rooms.