Photo by Sharon McCutcheon from Pexels

Dimsey doodle, not a poodle, me today. Kinda Yoda-ish be. In nonsense speak mostly I do. Controversy spark me in hope. On and on blather. Sex. Dream. Of sex dream, sexy dreams, oil slather. That fine line cross me, all over it stomp. Slime swim in, squishy, dishy.


Alone, aloneness, a one lonely, a-one only, spleak spickle, squirtle-e-do kangaroom on a broom sit. Sick stick dipstick, lickety split clit, lather me up, Scotty.

Charades! Count me out.

Oh …

Flown has this bird-brain, pee-shooter to boot, scooter. Staid parade, everglade, swim a crocodile like I, hunt for prey.


Hmm … maybe?

Find one, maybe I can. A dozen, dime, back to slime swimming, my locks trimming, waxing my …


Home! There, take me. My dinner, portion.


If I do, don’t mind.

One thought on “Sploogleportion

  1. Key Lamp September 19, 2019 / 12:38 am

    Ca-loo ca-lay, neighbourhood home! I will reprise from the annulled halls of my words, the penumbral dither of my silken ballet kapporet. For you I will do this and I will post it post haste.

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