Voyeurism
Today, everything feels pleasantly erotic
Like a 24-hour porno --
That instead of Hitachi Wands and purple strap-ons
Features actual bushes that, rather than pruned
Were allowed to grow heavy with fruit
And giggle as its stickiness drips down a lover’s chin
Crab grass bats its lashes at a gardenia
Who no longer fantasizes about being fucked by a tulip
But moans as she’s rammed by a flower of her own genus
Coming up occasionally only to recharge in the sunlight
And wondering how she’s lived for so long
Without ever making another perennial scream
Dandelion, Azaelia, and Crocus throw the blankets from their beds
Grind against each other with hardened stems and vibrating leaves
Petals curling as they cum and shake with pleasure
Then dropping to the ground, too exhausted to do anything but decompose
Or maybe enjoy a few puffs of CO2 or a sip of chlorophyll and coke
And before they know it,
After days and weeks of constant flirting, fucking, and sucking
They’ve covered the world in a layer of slippery yellow.
Splashed their DNA on sidewalks, bicycle seats and tables
Like a poorly aimed cum-shot that spewed haphazardly all over a window
Instead of arching majestically into a mouth
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