Dinge City Speaks
Sometimes dinge city—Speaks like a dirty white boy Doing the down-low. Other times it speaks—Not with words but with gestures Juju jive jizz ones. Outta black & blue—Snake-back sexy-slithery Moments just for you. Like today down at—The old South Center ghost mall It happens to me. At the post office—I bump into this dinge doll Tall, handsome, gangly. His skin is pale beige—He has bright orange kinky hair And lovely thick lips. Flat erect nostrils—I can see them quivering When he sees me cruise. I stand there in line—While he goes back to his car I just can’t help it. Then to my great shock—I get a good look at the Fat faggot driver. He has a big grin—Smeared all over his fag face It isn’t pretty. I am so jealous—Simply consumed with awful Dinge queen penis-envy. That old fat faggot—Doing the down-low you know Getting the kid off. I just can’t do it—Lick one stupid fuckin’ stamp Thinking about it. Dinge city just smirks—Destroying me completely With one little dish.