POEMS BY TWINKLETOES SCHUMAN

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I want to fuck you
Is that so bad?
A little something
For the fun we had.

How can you love me
And not go to bed?
We're adults; it's the '90s
That's all to be said!

I don't want to pressure you
But take off your dress
I can promise you panting
Now here comes my caress

I want to fuck you
Is that so bad?
A little memory
For the good times we had
I told you a joke
And you really laughed
Now you need my tongue
In your pussy
While we take a bath

I want to fuck you
Is that so bad?

Men with the women can't be just friends
So in this relationship, let's make amends

('Cause men have to prove they're not gay
Four or five or six times a day!)


Serial Killer of Paper Dolls

He puts a hat on and enters
His eyes shift to the right
His eyes shift to the left
No one knows him; it's alright
He leafs through a glossy girly magazine
And when he finds a woman he's glad he's seen

He purchases her with cash
Anonymous cold cash
And soon her paper features
Will be thrown into the trash

He's a serial killer of paper dolls
He doesn't honor them on his bedroom walls
He adores them until he spills his balls
Then he destroys them, heart and all
Because his hard-on stands in awe

No spotlight, no frame
He chooses to feel shame
He hates the women; he kills them
He throws them in the trash
He keeps them longer ...maybe ...
Than his paper-doll-buying cash

He blew his wad all in one place
A moist towlette, a crumpled face
He pleads not guilty to fool arousal
As the evidence clings to the bottom of his shoe!
(He's a fine, up-standing citizen
Oh, cock-a-doodle-doo!)

It's sticky
It's a quickie
It's shameful, disdainful
A paper thigh appears from below his pants leg
During his slide-show presentation
He's the president of this corporate sensation
No once can know!
(Not because they can't, because sex is now applauded
Even if it's a self-serve cone, homeys always glad you got it)

But he's too proud
To admit to his work-out
In his inside-his-home gym
Burning off the calories while lifting heavy skin
(Quickly, and with repetition
Those pseudo-jerks on treadmills don't know
What they're missin'!)

Serial killer of paper dolls
Hat and glasses disguise in the soft-porn outlet
As the clerks are cleanly-shaven
with 250 watts beaming upon their faces
Name tags adorn their clothing; They're cavalier of franchised places

They almost refuse service to the serial killer
As they've reserved the right to do
Because they know well-manicured paper feet
Will be flapping from his shoe
He's a fine, upstanding citizen
Oh, cock-a-doodle-doo


The Schizophrenic Nudist

He looked like hell his whole life
'Cause he knew it wouldn't last
He swallowed bitter pills
From his half-way empty glass
He walked around half-naked
He started his own camp
Some called him a pioneer
Some called him a tramp

The Pamela Smart Poem

(before Mary Letourneau stole her act!)

Nine and a half weeks
Tested for memory
Like a computer
You spit out the answer sheet

Blowing the lid off a kettle that's boiling
My homeroom teacher watches me like she's poising...

She's always told me not to leave off my "g's"
The woman is poisin' (poison)
But she's posing for me
See... I pronounced my "g"...
Gee, you're smart... Pamela!

I've thought she's hot
Since the day I first walked
Through the science lab door
I passed out on the floor
And there sits Pamela
My nightly fantasy
Behind her teacher's desk,
But I want her next to me...
...Pamela...

Called to the office
For a short conference
She tells me what I've heard in dreams
I look in her eyes
As they've slowly spellbound me
I know what "lascivious" means

She tells my fifteen-year-old perception
She thinks of me often at times
She builds up my confidence
And makes me dependent
I'm an addict to her every whim!

I've thought she's hot
Since the day I first walked
Through the science lab door
I passed out on the floor

You've got the wonder just what it all means
Algebraic equations, the grand scheme of things

**

Killing your husband is something I'd do
Simply because... you asked me to!

I take you, woman, to have and to hold
'Til death, we're apart
But then, we'll grow old!

When you're 40, teacher
I'll be 33
When I was 10
You babysat me

Our first movie
Was "On Golden Pond"
We questioned the language
But we moved beyond

Now we question
Sexual suggetion
And you're leading me to "yes"
In a casual mention

There you are, Pamela
Pinch me, I'm dreaming
You've cleaned out your teacher's desk
And my heart is screaming
Pamela...
You say we have a law class to attend?

Mary Letourneau

Mary Letourneau
If it's such a no-no
To love a young boy
But not Sonny Bono
Explain to me, darling
When after a ski mishap
He suddenly became
A much more adored chap...

When Bono was living
His daughter Chas
Was critical of
His political stance
But after the ski-hill
Even hard-hearted Cher
Was there and crying...
Was that really Cher?

So, Mary Letourneau
You've just gotta know
That if your young lover
Were to fall by the way
Of autoerotic asphyxiation
Because you're not there, say
He'd become a young hero
You'd become Yoko queen
And then everybody
Would see what you've seen

So, Mary Letourneau
As long as there's breath
There will be those
Who will want to see death
And then, only then
Will there be sympathy
>From cold-hearted men...

Cold-hearted men...
That's why you love the boy anyway, isn't it?

You are the Girls

(United Support of Animals for Sex")

We spend a dime to make a certain call (Vince Neil, Motley Crue)
So the girls will come together for fun (Paul Stanley [KISS])
There are strong lusts crying (Sammy Hagar)
And it's time to lend a hand (Brian Johnson [AC/DC])
To sex, the greatest gift of all (Gene Simmons [KISS])

You can't go on pretending day by day (Ronnie James Dio)
That someone, somewhere will soon change our ways (Steven Tyler [Aerosmith])
We are all a part of the sex society (Ozzy Osbourne)
And the truth: a fuck is all we need (David Lee Roth)

You are the girls
We're wayward pilgrims
You are the ones to make a brighter day
So why not give in?
There's a choice worth making
Worth saving this man's life
It's true, we need to cum
Just you and me (Robert Plant [Page/Plant])
Give us your muff so we'll know that someone cares (Marc Storace [Krokus])
And our lusts will be finally freed (the irreplaceable Willie Nelson)
As Sheena has shown us by exposing sugar walls (Udo Dirkschneider [Accept])
I wouldn't mind a sugar treat right now (Ian Gillan [Deep Purple])

You are the girls
We're wayward pilgrims
You are the ones to make a brighter day
So why not give in? (Paul Stanley [KISS])
There's a choice worth making
To keep the tower high
It's true, it needs some work
So stiffen me (Marc Storace [Krokus])

When you're down and low, there seems no hope at all (Bruce Dickinson [Iron Maiden])
But if you free the flow, there's no way I can fall (Rik Emmett [Triumph])
Let us realize that a change can only come (Derek St. Holmes [Ted Nugent])
When we lie together as one (Stephen Pearcy [Ratt])

You are the girls
We're wayward pilgrims
You are the ones to make a brighter day
So why not give in?
There's a choice worth making
Worth saving this man's life (Vince Neil/Ozzy Osbourne)
It's true, we gotta fuck just you and me (Ray Charles)

Severely

My severely attractive Erin
You lure me like a Spanish fly
And I'm a fish making kissy-kissy motions relentlessly
Until you laugh and stuff comes out your nose

My dearly comforting Erin
When I lie in your arms, it's because I'm
Not telling you the truth
And when you wrap yourself around me
I want to know what's on TV
Not so I can watch it
But so we can have something to discuss
As we pretend not to be severely in love

Oh! My Erin!
There are parts of your body that are pleasingly soft
But your knee in my groin makes me forget you in the moment
As I writhe in ecstasy because you've caused me pain
My severely attractive lover, Erin.

And your teeth bite down hard
When I've asked you to be nice
How you appear to be fighting our love!
And when I whip your butt, it's not because you've been bad
But when you whip mine, it's because you're physically stronger.

Take me in your arms, oh Erin!
Or keep me at arm's length and blow that damn whistle
But whatever may come
I love you with a love that is severely in need of a sounding board.
The head of your bed will do fine.
I'm severely in love with you, Erin.

DUST

Dust from my tv screen
Is now in a paper towel
Dust from my computer screen
Is black and grimy... wow!

Dust from my countertops
Is swirling, mingling in a mop
And dust that's in my lungs
Is causing me to cough

Dust that makes my flesh alive
Gets washed off with the rain
Dust that's on my penis
Makes it tingle, itch and crane

Busting up the dustpatch
Is what my penis does
The dust that's in my mind
Means it's dirty as it was

I just can't write nice poetry
Because my mind just turns to sex
And sex is dusty-dirty
So it's in a rag, suggest?

The garbage man takes all my towels
My rags and my mopheads
And the dust that's on my penis
Means I'll shine it soon again

Hard Facts About Softball (Batting off the Tee)

He's a masturbating virgin
In his early 40s
A gas attendant
By the name of Shorty
A classic movie buff and Lordy
Betty Grable can shore look pordy!

Contemporary women he avoids
To avoid a change of heart
Like the real-life experience
Of being torn apart

His wall calendars offend
Those of violations past
She's bitter as wormwood, baby
And he's a motherfuckin' bast...
Oh, skip it, it's intimate
It bares a soul to the knuckled heart
Hardened, clenched and bleeding parts
Scraped from seasons in the sun
Falling in the love of razors some

He never says goodbye
He never says hello
He calls the women bitches
And he loves the vintage show

Training wheels stagger
In baggage, a three-bagger
His inner child ain't wounded
He's just naive and stupid
His Turner Classic Movies
Induce catcalls and whooping

A three-layer cake!
A baby face and heart!
Makes him fat and sensitive
Like his life is worth a fart?!?

Nobody owes us nothin', baby
But the world owes him a load
Suing for his right, you know
To have his dick and hold

He has no fear of intimacy:
"I'm just really into ME, see?"
He never says goodbye
(to any season ended)
He never says hello
(reality offends him)
He calls the women bitches
He craftily steers clear
Of a beating-hearted human woman
Who would undoubtedly consume him

So he watches channel 30
On the local cable menu
Above the old cash register
Is a scant-clad docket venue
He's just a cinemanecrophile
And the goo-goo love romance of old
Still can make him smile