Tag Archives: sex

Poem 57: There was no music in the air

There was no music in the air
but it seems she didn’t care,
she was all over me.
We could’ve done it then and there.

There was no music in the air.
Her lips were red. Her skin was fair.
She was all over me.
She touched my knees and tossed her hair.

There was no music in the air.
By now she’d thrown off most her gear.
She was all over me.
She’d more to give than I could bear.

There was no music in the air.
Don’t you know that I’m a queer?

At last she’s over me.



Poem 46: I think I left my wallet

(The poetic form selected for this week is the French triolet).

I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.
Was it Cynthia’s or Brenda’s? Jill’s or even Fred’s?
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
Meg’s perhaps or Elsie’s? Jane’s or Winifred’s?
I really hope it’s Moira’s; I liked the kitschy-coo.
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.

895. Sex sex sex


Sex sex sex! That’s all anyone thinks of these days. It’s just sex sex sex!

Look at that young woman there, walking down the street. She’s dressed to the nines. All in the latest fashion. It’s nothing but sex sex sex. That’s all she’s thinking about. She dresses like that because she has sex on the brain.

It never used to be like that. And look at that man there. Barely eighteen, and you can tell by the way he licks his ice cream as he walks along that he’s thinking of nothing but sex. SEX! That’s all he ever thinks of.

And all these people out doing their shopping. Hundreds and hundreds of people. Every one of them the result of sex. It’s not as if each one of them was conceived with just one go. Oh no! There were dozens of attempts before most of them were conceived. The world is obsessed with sex sex sex.

Every one, just EVERY ONE, is harbouring little secret sexual fantasies. You can feel it. The air is heavy with all this testosterone and oestrogen and all that. I can smell it. I don’t know how many times, even this morning, I’ve been stripped naked by people’s eyes.

GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER you stinky oversexed generation of sex- sex- sex-starved nymphomaniacs. The modern generation. In all my eighty-seven years it seems to get worse by the year.

672. This is your captain speaking


Wanda and Lawrence decided on a mission. After a 16-hour flight, they were in a bar in LA having a relaxing drink. Wanda had been the pilot and Lawrence a flight attendant.

Did either belong to the Mile-High Club? No. Perhaps they should? Yes? Perhaps they would? Yes?

Both resolved on the return flight in a few days to join such a prestigious club.

The moment had arrived. The plane was on auto pilot. The co-pilot was stretching his legs.

“This is you captain speaking,” said Wanda. “We are now cruising at an altitude of 36 thousand feet. We are currently 98 kilometres from flying over Tahiti. I will let you know when that occurs.”

Lawrence entered the captain’s cabin (in a manner of speaking). The flight was swift.

“We are now passing over Tahiti,” said Wanda trying to sound composed.

Lawrence’s reappearance in the passenger area was greeted with mild applause.

517. Nymphomaniac


Wally watched Whitney through the window. Every day.

Every day Whitney would go for a run. Every day, as she passed Wally’s house, Whitney would push back her head and thrust out her mammary glands. She did it on purpose. She knew Wally was watching.

In fact, Whitney would push back her head and thrust out her mammary glands as she passed what seemed like every second house.

My mother reckons she’s a nymphomaniac, said Wally. I’m only thirteen and I hope you’re impressed that I can spell ‘nymphomaniac’.

And I know what nymphomaniacs are as well. Do I what! Dad told me. He said they never get any sleep.

514. English Comprehension Exam


The teacher of a class of fourteen year old boys at a prestigious school was a bit of a scallywag. The English examination comprehension question contained the following sentence from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice:

Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end.

The examination question:

In your own words, describe what was at an end.

502. Squawking


Henrietta and Algernon liked having a few acres of land around their house. You see, the thing was… um… how shall this be put? They liked… um… they liked to make a bit of noise when they were… um…um… doing it.

They had geese.

The distant neighbours always wondered why the geese started squawking around ten each evening.

445. To be honest


To be honest, I’m in it for sex. Patsy seems to think it’s love. She thinks all this means I want a deep personal relationship with her. She has no understanding of the male psyche.

Whether or not she keeps the baby is up to her. I told her I’m not paying a thing for it, and if she wants to have it it’s her decision, not mine. After all, it’s the woman’s responsibility whether she gets pregnant or not. I told her that, and I said when you get old and fat who would want you? I’m in it for the fun. God! Who the fuck does she think she is?

I said the same to her sister, Tessa. It’s up to her. At least Tessa’s not clinging to me like Patsy. Tessa knows Patsy was mine, so she shuts up about us. Tessa told Patsy the baby was someone else’s. That’s Tessa’s baby. I don’t reckon it’s mine any way. From memory there were about six of us having a go. Can’t remember now.

All these irresponsible chicks. You’d think they would’ve learnt about taking the pill when they were at school. I learnt about condoms. I use them if they’re handy, but a woman is on the pill to stop having a baby. I use condoms to stop picking up diseases. You don’t know who the fuck they’ve been sleeping with, half of these chicks.

Only yesterday I was telling – I’m sorry I can’t remember her name, Cherry? Kay? perhaps I never heard it? they can become a bit of a blur – I was telling her the same thing. I hope you’re on the pill, I said. I don’t believe in irresponsible sex.

373. The expert


The sex expert had been brought in for a television show. He advocated doing away with marriage altogether. “Why get married? Most don’t last. If you want sex, have it. It you want babies, a single parent is a proven success. What is more, it is the way of the future; most young people would agree with me.”

To highlight this, the television studio arranged for a group of sixteen-year-old students to take part as a studio audience. The expert warmed them up.

“I’m going to ask you questions,” he said. “Let’s practice now before the live show begins. Hands up those who think marijuana should be legal.”

A number put their hands up. “Why’s that?” he asked of one student. “Let’s try another topic. Hands up those who think the legal drinking age should be lowered?”

A number put their hands up. “Why’s that?” he asked of one student. “Let’s try another topic. Hands up those who think the legal driving age should be lowered?”

“Good,” said the expert. “The live show is about to begin. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. We are live! Welcome to the show on why marriage should be done away with. Let’s begin…”

“Hands up those who have had sex.”

The cameras honed in on one poor benighted stunted backward student who hadn’t put his hand up. He was embarrassed as shit. “Let’s get Goody Two-Shoes here to tell us why he hasn’t put his hand up,” said the expert.

“Because it’s none of your fucking business,” said the lad.

All teens hooted with laughter. The expert knew he’d lost.