Big Tits Chatted Up To Produce Bigger Tats

I remember once walking around,
As a child with an unchanged diaper.
I remember also getting low grades,
In math at an elementary school.
And geography and history,
I thought then to be a waste of my time.
It wasn't 'cool' for me in those days.

Do these revelations disqualify me,
To run for public office?
Or will my experimenting,
With various sexual preferences admitted...
Screw my abilities,
With big tits...
Chatted up to produce bigger tats.

'What's the matter with you? '

~I thought you were going somewhere else with that.~

'Oh?
And...
Where did you think or 'hope' that I would go? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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