Sunday, April 12, 2020

PHONE SEX, A Selection From THE SUN LOVES EVERY PLANET







When your relationship has grown sour

And your desire no longer burns

Pick up the phone and call me


When you wake up one day

And your wife is a stranger

Lying in your arms

Are the dreams you never wanted

You tell yourself

You can’t believe

It’s happening to you

How could you have grown

So far apart and never noticed?


Deep inside you know the truth

The only difference now

Is you can no longer tell yourself

It’s just a passing phase

That will someday go away

You can no longer rationalize

Wasting your life away

Every new bang that you’ve ever tried

Even blindfolding her

And jamming her on her side

No longer delivers what you crave

Call me

When you feel trapped

As you look at yourself

In the mirror

When you have finally arrived

At the conclusion

That your entire world

Is built on artifices

Which no longer sustain you

As you strip a load in the shower

Before heading to work for the day

At the job you hate with real passion

Selling your soul to the highest bidder

With your meek tail between your legs


When you’re fed up

With vacuuming the carpet

When she tells you to

Or you won’t get ‘any’

When you’ve lowered yourself

Even further

If that is actually possible

And grovel for the bush

You don’t even really want

Call me


Tired of being quiet

So you don’t wake the kids

You wish she would scream at least once

But she refuses to do even this

For it would express

Some form of emotion

But that’s all saved

For her fantasies on TV


You beg her to be kinky

To try something different

Something new

As an image of your neighbor’s

Daughter crosses your mind

Working on her tan

In a pink French bikini

Sweating

In the summer sun

Makes her cheeks

Stick together

As you sneak a peep at her

Through the blinds

Obscuring the window

When you think no one is looking

It’s your turn to pretend

To watch the kids

So the wife can add

To the treasures of the palace

From the latest strip mall


When you feel

As though you’re going to puke

If you have to watch her

Stroll through the vineyard

One more time

With her carefully turned up hat

So she doesn’t have to actually

Feel

The sun touch

Her pasty, white flesh


When it takes

Every fiber of your being

To restrain

Yourself from choking her

As you listen to her

Chirping to her friend

About how disgusting it is

When people drive their money around

As a man pulls up

In what must be

A more expensive car than hers


When you can no longer stomach

The sight of her

Sipping a dry wine

And

Swishing it

Inside her mouth

As though

She is a connoisseur

Of all things fine

When the very thought

Of watching her

Clear the taste with some crackers

Before indulging in the next

Adventurous selection

The grape curator

Has so thoughtfully picked out

After his years of killing

People in Afghanistan

Dropping bombs of hot fire

From a safe distance in the sky

Never seeing the death

Not up close

Not hand to hand combat

Where you look a man in the eyes

See him die

Feel him die

Call me

I’m on the other end

Just waiting

To be your special friend


I’m not saying he’s a bad man

He’s never called me

I suppose

He did what he had to

As all people fighting a war do

But it is rather ironic

Don’t you think

That he now grows grapes

For the wives of men who call me

Wives who don’t know

Their husbands as well as I do

Wives who lie to themselves

About what huge pricks

Their husbands really are


When they think he’s working

On his golf game

With some of the boys

From work

He calls friends

Little do they know

He’s telling me every detail

Of your miserable little lives


When you can’t take

One more moment

Of walking around

Like you’re in a coma

And calling it

Gentle and civilized

Call me

I understand


Has it ever occurred to you

That you can only afford to be lazy

Because someone overseas

In a third world sweat shop

Breaks their back for you?

But, she feels no guilt about this

Because, after all

She deserves it

Nor does it bother her in the least

That people in Africa

Are killing each other

For the diamond

She wears on her finger


It’s not so much

That you need

A new and improved

More efficient exercise machine

You need some

Hunger

Desire

Something you’ve never had

Because

You’ve always been

Soft and fake

Relishing your wine

As you stuff

Your fat ass with cheesecake


When Christmas comes

You tell all the sexy jokes about her

At the holiday party

Everyone knows your lust

Is just in good

Old fashioned neighborly jest

As you drink your desperation to sleep

And elbow each other coyly


After the party

She lets down her guard for a moment

And spreads her legs somewhat warmly

Your prison is fresh at that moment

Your flesh appeased for an instant

But then

Whoever becomes bored first

While claiming satiation

Turns on the boob tube

And the walls go up again


You wish your desire

Could rise as quickly

As the barbs and thorns

Of her precious, dry wit

But

The further you chase it

The deeper your hole

Because even pounding her from behind

Slamming it up the one place

That is still tight

She barely lets out a concealed

Carefully measured moan

She never told you

About the guy

She loved long ago

She never told you

How she settled for you

As a somewhat acceptable

And

Adequate provider


He is distant

Not in the same way

Distant in time

She still does him in her heart

Using your flesh as substitute

But don’t ever call her a prostitute

Cause she don’t take cash

She only takes credit

And the interest is always rising

When you least expect it

Like when she yells at you

To bake the goddamn cupcakes

And DON’T BURN THE TINS

I need some help around the house

You pathetic excuse for a husband


When you feel as though

You’re going to explode

If you have to listen to her mother

Cackle one more time

About how society is going to hell

On and on

About her friend’s degenerate grandson

Who was caught with drugs again

On and on

About how things just aren’t as good

As they used to be

When people followed rules

And

Believed in something

On and on

Reliving the nostalgia

Of black and white movies

Back when the bands swung big

To the sounds of brass and Sinatra

On and on

Barely pausing to take a breath

She preaches to her deaf audience

About how they are

The generation of real heroes

Nobody appreciates them anymore

If they ever did to begin with                          

On and on

Gossiping as much

As humanly possible

About who if sleeping with who

And who is most likely to win

The baking contest

At church on Sunday

On and on

About how she could be happy

If it weren’t for

Her friend’s granddaughter

Getting pregnant again

She’s not even married

Can you believe it?

People just don’t have morals anymore

On and on

About

If her husband paid more

Attention to her

On and on

About

If her neighbor

Wasn’t driving her crazy

Every single day of her life

On and on

About

If she didn’t have to tell Johnny

To turn that obnoxious music down

A hundred times a day

Every time they visit

Can’t they see

That all this

Only adds to her pain?

My doctor won’t help me

It’s as if

He wants me to be in pain

She laments

As she swallows another pill

With a gin martini, straight up

On and on

About how

She was never half the slut

Her tattooed and pierced

Granddaughter is

Sure, she used to get it on

With every GI

She could get her mouth on

But that was just part

Of being in the USO

And

The war effort

                                                                          

As the Mrs. obsesses

About the color of her nail polish

People starve around the world

But they don’t matter

Half as much

As your spoiled kids

You pretend to be proud of

When they show the slightest inkling

They won’t turn out to be

Exactly like you


All those boys

The wife went down on in college

Bobbing their knobs

With drunken abandon

At all those wild frat parties

Just practicing up

So she could save it all for you

And be princess for a day

Walking down the aisle in white

Hating every friend

That watches her

In a special, jealous way

Hoping she cuts the cake perfectly

As the camera flashes

He pulls the garter off

Her plump leg

As the old folks clap

Her friends hate her back

Criticizing the tackiness of her dress

And the insidious fashion of her shoes

Whispering

He really isn’t so handsome

He only seems so

In dark light and tuxedo


The choir of such finer virtue

Smiling big all the while

Wash down their confused envy

With a bitter toast

When they’re not too busy

Ripping the bride apart

Naturally

They complain

About their ex-husbands

And

Their new bitches

Driving them crazy

And making their lives a living hell


He looks better yet

With less sober eyes

They can’t believe

That she settled for him

When she could have done

So much better

But it’s too late to change

Too late to start over


Call me

I’m on the other end

Just waiting

To be your special friend

I’m always here

Waiting for you

Always here

Just for you


My life was not so much like yours

Daddy used to nail me in the trailer

Just outside of town

When you went to the circus

To see the clowns

I thought of running away

With the carnival

All the swirling lights

And cotton candy

Dreams to fill a young girl’s mind

But I got knocked up by a boy

Daddy told me to stay away from

Because he wanted

To keep me for himself

The carnival is no place

To raise a baby

So I didn’t go

I dropped out of school

With horrible fear seizing my heart

Sleepless nights I prayed

The baby was Joey’s

And not my daddy’s


Joey left town

With another girl

So now

I wait just for you

On the other end of the line


Call me if you’re lonely

We can talk

About anything you want

I’ll wet your desire

Confessions are my specialty

Fantasies

Perversity

Everything

Your wife won’t give you

I gladly will

For a fee

A small fee

Only 99 cents per minute











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