HEATHCLIFF-HUGHES III

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The Colossus

The Sow

Lewd Landlord

Nightshift

View of a Cadaver Room

The Manor Garden

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The Colossus

I dreamed I was Oedipus—

Blind to what was & would be

Heathcliff such a studly youth—

Sometimes he couldn’t hold it

He’d fix me in parenthesis—

Between the prongs of his legs

Easing his flesh in and out—

Between my ruby-red lips

But then suddenly losing it—

Lobbing a huge spaz gob

Right into my ogling eyeball—

Douching me with spluge

Not just a little cute squirt—

But more like a fire hose

A young horsy greedy gush—

Definitely a Royal Flush

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The Sow

Gawd only knows my deep shame—

How I became Heathcliff’s sow

He  kept me his own shrewd secret—

He kept me hid as his kept man

I was his blue ribbon oink show—

Kept impounded from public view

From dusk to dawn lantern-lit—

Behind our sunken-sty bedroom door

Something to gape at but no—

Delicate piece of blue china

I was no dolt Piglette though—

I glorified in my hog whoredom

I wasn’t blowzy, mire-besmirched

Like the other barnyard girls

I was just Heathcliff’s tenant—

His little Porky Pig concubine

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Lewd Landlord

I smoked weed and snorted—

The best Yorkshire cocaine

And my lover young Heathcliff—

Had a big Brobdingnag hog

We were totally engrossed—

Being gross and horsy de rigueur

His grisly-bristled pubes—

Mustachioed my pouty lips

With a jocular Jackoff thrust—

He thwacked my big bottom

Making me squeal like a piggy—

A most prodigious Oinky-oink

Heathcliff had no constraint—

What a naughty Landlord he was

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Nightshift

It was a heart-throbbing—

Beating-off drumming quake

Mutely banking, clanging—

Detonating obscenely

In the quiet still suburbs—

Startling all the neighbors

It shook the ground—

And rattled all the roofs

Then the thudding—

Source was exposed

It was the teenage kid—

The typical kid next door

The little sex fiend was—

Addicted to online porno

Big tittie striptease—

Shows from Las Vegas

Deep Throat movies—

Babylon Hollywood

The cops in blue—

Took the kid away

Leaving behind—

His greasy laptop

Plus Disney cartoons—

And tubes of K-Y

But low & behold—

Earthquakes continued

The awfully nasty online—

Habit had gone viral

All the local men were—

Doing online porno too

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The Cadaver Room

The cute undertaker’s son—

Inviting me over one weekend

Down into the funeral parlor’s—

Odiferous embalming room

A vinegary perfume pervaded—

The death vats full of it

The white-smocked men gone—

He showed me a cute cadaver

A young hotrod hoodlum—

Killed in a head-on collision

His nude baby-smooth skin—

So delectable to caress

He seemed simply asleep—

Naked on the steel table

I pulled back the sheet—

There he was with a boner

Me and the undertaker’s son—

Fiddled with the erect schlong

It was pale orchid purple—

Like bruised blue china

So delicate and desolate—

It bent shyly to the right

It had a purple sheen like—

The tattoo on his shoulder

I couldn’t help but—

Straddle it for an hour

Pretending I was his cute—

Distraught greedy girlfriend

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The Manor Garden

The honeymoon is over—

The heather is blooming purple

Heathcliff has dumped me—

Down into the deep well

My visit lasted a month—

A quickie Las Vegas marriage

What a Landlord he was—

Wuthering Heights boyfriend

Down the broken path—

Back to my rented shack

Full of Wuthering Slights—

Will he ever ask me back?

Young Landlords can be—

Such fickle motherfuckers