It was a sacred time
a ritual that will not be forgotten,
acquainted with a herd became pig’s feet,
gorgeous marked red silk cotton bags soaked
This is what happens, young girls taken to a ranch
left to the devices of whoever has agreed to take them
for a ride, serious beef just banging, young horny
have no regrets just big beasts cows on the prairie,
watch them tremble, caught in the middle forever harassing
There will eventually be a respite, but only after the fact.
have been done, depletion may appear at the top of the blisters,
bleeding hearts, aching unleavened bread, hardened skin
There may still be more in the showroom, a chance to sleep at last, for there will be other days remarkable sessions on the farm, a life without promises without end, sacred rhythm, a blank neck, two peas in a pod, never landing both feet long standing foreign objects creeping leaking jaded in various colors that have come too soon forced ejaculation in large squirting samples but no telling when it will come be here finally come but never a discussion only rabid tales, marks there on spotted dogs without their claws paws scattered are walking the range, one day it will be subsidized if they ever survive they find a way, loquacious long-winded breasts, loquacious load so many bites on them, a sad snack not even a food, droopy tails, no satisfaction, no achievement, rotten, no babies in the oven, pathetic, no time for dinner, there is only one little one, grotesque criminal, no pride, vine to mystic