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The Pinch Hitter
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 1:08 pm
by goldenmyst
The Pinch Hitter
Absent husbands make for cold beds
When his late work hours keep him off the plate
As the last inning of her lust stretches into agony
Her yearning for a man to fill in for hubby
Grows unbearably steamy
I step up to the plate with my long bat
Ready to give her my home run
Her ballpark fantasy
Fulfilled in the heat of the night
Joltin’ John feeds her frenzy
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 2:55 pm
by stilltrucking
As much as I would love another turn at bat, I would never to go there again. Too scared.
just a personal note to myself
enjoyed your poem john

Posted: March 12th, 2009, 5:45 pm
by Lightning Rod
how do you want to die, Lightning Rod?
"I want to be shot at age 80 by a jealous husband"
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 7:39 pm
by stilltrucking
Clay wrote:
how do you want to die, Lightning Rod?
"I want to be shot at age 80 by a jealous husband"
Her husband was a heck of a nice guy, she would smile when she mentioned his name because he thought he could use his sex to control her.
I helped her out of a jam, I should have kissed my horse and road off into the sunrise. But I was not a nice guy, I stuck around to get laid.
just a personal note goldenmyst, nothing to do with your excellent poem
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 7:43 pm
by Lightning Rod
check out 'My Friend Richard" by Bukowski
I can't find it on the web or I would post it.
Maybe it's 'My Friend William."
but he was a nice guy too
had a firm handshake
and the heels of his shoes were perfectly level
could get 50,000 miles on a brakejob
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 7:54 pm
by stilltrucking
That dam youtube video of Bukowski kicking the crapola out of his wife haunts me every time his name is mentioned. But great poets not known for being nice guys. A lot of them anyway.
what does this mean clay
and the heels of his shoes were perfectly level
sorry John
just say high jack
oiy!
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 8:05 pm
by Lightning Rod
I can't find the text of the poem
it's called 'My Friend William"
it's about the perfect nice guy
here is a clip of a song that uses it as a lyric
it's abbreviated, you don't get the punchline about Williams wife getting fucked in the bathroom while he is being nice to the guests.
http://www.leonandfriends.nl/almost%20dawn.html
click on My Friend William
(I sure would like to see the entire text of this poem, truck. You are a much better researcher than I am, could you try?)
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 8:25 pm
by stilltrucking
thanks for the link Clay
At this point in time this is my most treasured Bukowski poem.
Bono reading Roll The Dice
Posted: March 12th, 2009, 9:05 pm
by goldenmyst
Feel free. I love going on tangents. I do a lot of it myself. LOL The idea for my poem came from the Steely Dan tune, "Dirty Work." Those two scoundrels were wicked good musicians.
John
Posted: March 15th, 2009, 3:03 am
by Nazz
Shameless converse man says
Cold husbands make for absent beds.
I guess it all ends up about the same,
depending on how you look at it,
doesn't it?
Posted: March 15th, 2009, 8:19 am
by goldenmyst
Yep. You said it in a nut shell. You are indeed correct. Thanks for reading.
John
Posted: March 15th, 2009, 1:24 pm
by saw
baseball will never be the same, john...ha...love steely dan, don't think they have gotten enough recognition for their complex songs both lyrically and musically .....an interesting contemporary view of an age old situation.....
Posted: March 16th, 2009, 8:41 pm
by goldenmyst
Saw, yes Donald Fagan and Steely Dan are brilliant musicians. Thanks for reading this fanciful fantasy.
John
Posted: March 16th, 2009, 10:10 pm
by hester_prynne
Well Goldie, this was a big hit with the boys......
Great insight into the male fantasy. Thanks for sharing.
H

Posted: March 17th, 2009, 8:58 am
by stilltrucking
I
As much as I would love another turn at bat, I would never to go there again. Too scared.
just a personal note to myself
Ten four hester Dimsdale got off too easy.
Oh man
John sorry to get off on a personal tangent again.
I have tried to write about it for over thirty years.
I was going to call it my three scaret letters.
Or maybe spiderlove.