poetry critical

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D. Clux, th masturbator

Fawn that she was, that was her name.
I desire t remember in a very horrible way:
Were he a germ, a very giant germ (especially th well-read kind
familiar with Psychology even, Nietzsche even,
well-dressed for work, over-dressed in fact,)
he would have rightly belonged imself
to be stepping along her two chests,
flat on top, rubbing against th' torso,
hike up into the caves of the nostrils.
But he was a man, "I am a decent man!" the sexual man proclaims,
after he enjoys himself all over th' pillow
and even on the window glass.
"oh boy, I am a naked convict! i am a fly between th boobs"
gonna get two lines between the eyes upon his
thirty-thousandth  day

29 Nov 08

(define the words in this poem)
(88 more poems by this author)

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you might want to fix the typos (unless they're intentional) they can be a little distracting
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I think the title would indicate they are intentional
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unclear why some typos include th' apostrophe, and others don't
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unclear that life has dog shit where there are no dogs
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